How Then Shall We Live?
by Ocianne
Summary: Fae and Humans, separated by the hatred between their estranged races. Ten children, growing up in this broken world. Can they survive to change their world, or will it crush them first? UsagiMamoru, SenshiShitennou AU. Discontinued.
1. Dolls

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Dedication: To Ele-chan – My muse, my friend and my alpha-beta. Without you, _The Fae_ would still be languishing on my hard drive. Cheers!

Story Disclaimer: The characters of this story belong to Naoko and her lawyers. This story is property of me, myself and I, also known as Ocianne. Do no sue; do not steal; do not make me repeat myself.

Come watch as their life's threads of the heroes of this age, as they begin to follow the pattern of the tapestry's weave...

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_Added June 21, 2004_

In an effort to allay the constant confusion about who is who, I've finally gotten around to putting up the name changes for the ten main characters.

Usagi – Iris Veraht.

Minako – Aislyn Aire

Ami – Tarai Rahn.

Rei – Kayamé Rahn

Makoto – Dyani Serden

Mamoru – Mikael Ingvarr

Kunzite – Kain Merin

Zoisite – Erik Serden

Jadeite – Jaeden Merin

Nephrite – Landon Kyrios

Other SM characters will be making cameos, but they'll be pointed out later, and most minor characters are original, not borrowed.

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Chapter One: Dolls  
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It was a quiet, peaceful place. Birds sang their joyful chorus in the trees of Varon Forest, undisturbed by the small cottage sitting on its southern outskirts. A brook danced to its own private tune, gurgling over rocks as it meandered from the forest through the meadow behind the cottage.

Alazy plume of smoke uncurled from the brick chimney and dissipated in the zephyrs dancing about the welcoming structure. Though unneded because of its isolation, alow wooden fence surounded the small plot of land, leaving enough room for a garden and grovethat circled the entire cottage. On the house's front side a gate opened into a dirt walk, running between green grass and carefully tended flowers to the wooden front porch.

A middle-aged man, dressed in traveling clothes, exited the forest and walked swiftly through the meadow's wild grasses to the gate. Unlatching it, he entered and let it swing closed behind him with a loud '_bang_!', then stood and waited.

"Papa, papa!"

A young girl's face appeared and then vanished in one of the two windows that faced the front walk. The front door burst open and she rushed toward him, her arms open wide. With a broad grin the man swept his daughter into the air just before she crashed into him,spinning her around as she laughed in childish glee. After a moment he set her on his shoulders, giving an exaggerated grunt.

"You're getting to big, Iris. Soon you'll be taller than me!"

Iris giggled as her father started up the dirt walk, still riding on his shoulders. "Momma says I'm growing too, but I can't tell, 'cept I've hit my head sometimes."

"There, you see? You'll be a beautiful, tall young woman before you know it. Have you been looking after you mother while I've been gone?"

She nodded, not taking into account that he couldn't see her. "Yes! And she's been teaching me all sorts of interesting things. But there's so much, Papa..." Iris sighed, running her hands through his unkempt brown hair. "I'm afraid I'll never learn it all!"

He chuckled softly, reaching up and smoothing her hair to comfort her. "It's all right not to know everything, so long as you're always willing to learn."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. But don't ever give up on knowing as much as you can."

"I won't, Papa. I promise." She paused for a moment as they mounted the two steps to the porch and entered the house, then whispered in her father's ear, "Did you bring me anything?"

Laughing, he plucked her from her perch and set her on the wooden floor inside. "A new record, making it inside the house before the question! Though as a matter of fact," he continued, reaching inside his coat and squatting beside her, "I did."

He pulled out an exquisitely made wooden doll,the face painted to match Iris' bright blue eyes and rosy mouth and the limbs jointed to give them movement. Rather than carved hair, real hair had been attached to the head: long, straight, pale white-blonde, identical to the young girl's own. A tiny wreath of blue flowers and a white summer dress completed the doll's ensemble. Iris squealed in delight when her father placed the doll in her hands, giving him an enormous hug and kiss.

"Oh!" exclaimed a new voice, as Iris' mother appeared in the room and saw the gift. "She looks just like you, Iris!"

Iris immediately turned and ran toward her mother, holding the doll aloft. "See what Papa gave me, Momma!"

"She's beautiful, dear," the woman said, giving Iris a peck on the forehead. "Why don't you play with her while I talk to your father?"

Iris obeyed, scampering to the corner of the cottage which held her small collection of toys. Her mother approached her father and kissed his cheek, his hand in hers.

"You spoil her, Aran. That doll must have cost a fortune!"

Aran smiled. "Guilty as charged, my dear, but just look at her. It was a small price to pay to see her so happy."

The couple stood together in silence for a moment, watching their daughter. At first glance her play seemed like a normal child's, but a second looked revealed a slight discoordination in her movements and that her eyes did not focus on the doll as she smoothed its hair and dress.

"Miki..."

"Yes, darling?"

"Sometimes I wish... why must she be blind?"

Leaning her head against his shoulder with a sigh, Miki avoided his eyes, which she knew would be full of sadness and regret. "You know why, Aran. Her differences, her blindness, come from being our child."

"I know, but there are still times where I wish I could do something," Aran said with a frown.

"You don't need to do anything. She knows her way around almost better than I do, and for now that's enough. She's happy regardless of whether or not she can see, and sometimes I think everything might turn out better this way."

"Perhaps." There was another short silence. "You've been teaching her?"

"Did she tell you? Yes, I am. When I think of all that she'll need to learn... but she loves to listen to me. You know, I don't think she'll ever lose her curiosity. It's too strong."

She smiled at him, and he squeezed her hand.

"I agree. But let's worry about the future when it comes. For the present," Aran said with a shameless smile, "I heard that a lovely young woman in these parts makes the best roast in the country."

Miki laughed, her curly blond hair dancing around her face as she shook her head at him, and went to make their dinner. "Welcome home, Aran."

- - - --

"The Lady Aislyn, sir."

Lord Shonin Aire glanced up from the papers on his desk to acknowledge the servant standing in the door of his study. Leaning back in his chair, he nodded and the servant retreated with a bow to allow a young girl, perhaps ten years old, enter.

"You wanted to see me, father?" she asked respectfully, looking at the floor.

"Come in, Aislyn, and close the door behind you."

Shutting the heavy oak door firmly, the girl walked to stand in front of his desk. He regarded her critically for a moment as she waited.

While her waist-length golden hair was plaited in the traditional braid for girls of noble birth, she let it hang free instead of wearing it coiled and pinned against the head like most. Also, though her ivory dress had been made of expensive cloth as befitted her station, it employed a simple design without the usual decorative laces and ruffles. Aislyn was a stubborn lass, that much was certain, unwilling to be influenced by her peers and elders. No, she followed her own path.

And that was why he loved her so.

"No hug for your dear father?" Aire asked abruptly, a twinkle appearing in his stern grey eyes. Aislyn's face lit up with a smile and she ran to him, climbing in his lap and linking her arms around his nick. Sighing happily, she snuggled down in his embrace.

"They don't let us do things like this at school, but I'm glad that you'll still hug me, father." She paused. "I don't like it there."

"I know, Aislyn, but I cannot go against the law, either to recall you from there or to train you as my successor. It took a great deal of effort to merely orchestrate your visit home."

"You can't do _anything_ father?" she asked seriously, pulling back to gaze at his face. "They teach things there that don't agree with what you've told me."

"I know they do, and you must not let them know that I've taught you anything."

"I remember. But how can I know what's true, when you both teach me things and say that your way is right?"

Aire smiled fondly at his only child. "My little Aislyn, you must decide for yourself what you think is true. However, you have an advantage over your fellows — you have a second view to consider."

She nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Will you tell me more then, father? I want to know the truth, so I'll have to know as much as I can from you before going back to school."

"Of course," Aire replied warmly. He leaned back in his chair and focused his eyes on some distant, unseen place. "Long ago, when the Creator first made the world, the Fae and humans lived together in peace..."

Settling herself on Aire's lap more comfortably, Aislyn lost herself in his words.

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AN: So. Now it begins. ::Laughs evilly::. You're in for a _long_ story.

Review, please? ::Points down at button market 'submit review'::. I accept all types of feedback. Going by a tradition I've seen a few FF authors use, I'll be responding to all my reviewers in my closing notes of the next chapter. Don't you want to see your name here? ;)

See you next update.

Ocianne

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	2. Different Lives

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Chapter Two: Different Lives  
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Dyani Serden trotted purposefully through the streets of Ryven, which stood at the northeastern edge of Varon Forest. Ryven was a small town, near the outermost reaches of the Terien Kingdom's boundary. Not that there were any other Kingdoms, but human inhabitation didn't extend much beyond Ryven, and Terien reached only as far as its people lived.

Dyani didn't care much about the town's isolation—the town was self-sufficient, and just small enough for the inhabitants to be closely connected, while just large enough to be fascinating for any adventurous five-year-old explorer. Guard towers were spaced around Ryven on its outskirts to defend it from bandit raids, and the younger inhabitants were to stay within the town limits, but unoffical exits hidden from the guards' view were frequently utilized by the more enterprising youths within Ryven.

As one such child, Dyani's current destination lay at the town's west side. While the road leading to Moire ran from the north side of Ryven, the fields and farms Ryven depended on for food stretched away to the east, and to south lay only the beginning of the forest, the river Lisk flowed between Ryven and the forest on the town's west side. Dyani slipped through the hidden way around the nearest tower, and arrived nearly on the river's stony banks.

Though its origin had never been traced, the Lisk was Ryven's only source of water, a deep channel dug even deeper by the town's inhabitants. Part of the river had been widened into a clearing between the river and forest's edge, creating a small lake behind a dam crossing its banks where it narrowed again. However, the river still continued on, slowly overflowing the dam in a small waterfall.

Dyani ran sure-footedly across the slightly submerged dam, unworried about slipping or losing her balance. She stopped in the middle and stood for a moment, her eyes closed. She enjoyed the feel of the cold water slipping around her ankles and down into its original bed, where it continued toward the distant ocean. Dyani had never followed the river's course all the way there, of course, but she had once heard her older brother say that the Lisk emptied into the sea, and she liked to imagine that it did.

She looked down into the flowing water and saw her reflection rippling on its surface. Deep green eyes stared back at her from a face tanned by the sun. She made a face at her curly auburn hair, and wished that it would become straight. Currently, the only way to constrain it was to keep it in a high ponytail.

Privately grumbling a little at some of the general unfairness of life, Dyani crossed to the other side and began her hunt. Erik was training with Jaeden, and they said that she couldn't join in their swordfight unless she had a weapon herself. Since there was no way for her to get a wooden sword like they did, her only other option was a staff like some of Ryven's inhabitant's used. Or rather, a stout, strait stick that she could carry and use as a staff.

After what seemed like forever, and much discarding of unsuitable sticks, Dyani finally found the perfect one. The branch had probably been broken off from its tree during the last thunderstorm, but was none the worse for such treatment. Perfectly straight, with a little work and stripping it would become the weapon she needed.

Dyani immediately returned the way she came, and once inside Ryven again resumed her customary speed of travel—a dead run. Any townspeople out in the streets moved out of her way as she sped by; most of the town had grown accustomed to the unladylike habits of the mayor's youngest child and only daughter. She soon arrived at the two boys' dueling spot: the backyard of Jaeden's house.

It was more a rectangular patch of dry, hard-packed dirt edged by flowers and shrubs and surrounded by a low fence on three sides, and the back porch of the Merin house on the fourth. In the center, the bright afternoon sun shone down on two blonde heads, one golden, the other bearing hints of strawberry-orange. They moved here and there around the yard as Jaeden and Erik gained and lost ground to each other.

To Dyani's surprise and delight, she found Jaeden's older brother, Kain, watching the amateur swordsmen. Kain had a soft spot for her, which was lucky, because she needed his skills. She sidled along the edge of the plants to avoid Erik and Jaeden, and approached Kain with the branch.

"Kain," she said sweetly, utilizing the full extent of her little-girl charms, "can you help me make this into a staff?"

He looked down at her in mild surprise, but smiled. "They said you could join in if you had a weapon, I assume?"

"Yeah. And since you have a knife…" she trailed off, making designs in the dirt with her big toe. Kain chuckled good-naturedly.

"Sure, Di. Let's go to the side yard, so that the two "expert swordsmen" aren't disturbed."

Dyani giggled and surrendered her branch to him, then skipped alongside him to the small bare area on the side of the house. Kain, at thirteen, was the oldest boy she knew and the only one who could use a knife, from his father teaching him to whittle. As she watched in fascination, he stripped the branch of extra twigs and expertly turned it into a perfect miniature staff.

"There," he said finally, letting her examine it. She turned it over in her hands, running them along its smooth bark, then gave Kain a huge hug.

"Thank you!" She stepped back gave the staff a few experimental swings, forcing him to dodge it quickly.

"Do you know how to use that?" he asked with a kind smile. Dyani scowled and crossed her arms, dropping the staff in the process.

"Not yet. But I will!" she exclaimed stubbornly, glaring at him.

"Hm." He put his chin in one of his hands and supported his elbow with the other as he thought, a trait he had borrowed from his father. After a moment he seemed to come to a conclusion. "How about I get my sword and teach you? Then we can take on those two," he waved his hand toward the sound of wooden swords clashing, "and teach them how to _really_ fight." His grey eyes gleamed deviously. Dyani's eyes widened, her mouth forming a surprised 'o'.

"Really?"

"Sure. It'll be fun, don't you think?"

Dyani nodded eagerly, and picked up her staff again as Kain retrieved his own practice sword from his room. His was of better quality than the younger boys', due to his whittling skills. Dyani knew he was better skilled then Erik and Jaeson as well, because his father had been training him. She swallowed, slightly nervous, as he took up an offensive position in front of her.

"Ready?" He grinned encouragingly at her.

"Yes," she replied with determination, imitating the defensive position she had once seen a staff-wielder use in a practice duel. She wanted to learn how to fight, desiring to keep up with Erik as little sisters universally did. After all, things like wearing dresses were sissy. She currently wore one of Erik's old outfits, cut down by her own clumsy fingers with a pair of scissors to fit her. Her parents disapproved, of course, but she was too quietly stubborn for them to be able to influence her much.

Without warning, Kain startled her out of her thoughts by leaping forward, and she braced herself against his downward swing.

"En guarde!"

- - - - -

Jaeden and Erik continued their practice swordfight in the yard. By mutual consent the first boy to "draw blood", scoring a hit on his opponent, would be the winner. Jaeden fought fiercely, his sword always moving as he and Erik circled each other, each seeking for an opening.

"Give up yet?" he taunted, executing a particularly forceful downward stroke. Erik managed to block it with his own sword, and shook his head with a confident smile, saving his breath for fighting.

As they continued, Jaeden founding himself gradually tiring, unable to continue his impetuous attacks for such an extended period of time. Erik, he noticed, was staying entirely on the defensive, doing nothing more than counter his attacks.

The golden-haired boy scowled, recognizing too late the strategy his friend employed. Let your opponent tire himself out, he remembered from his father's instructions to them both during their last training session. Then, once he can't keep up his attacks anymore, strike!

Suddenly, Erik ducked Jaeden's sword and brought his own across in a single, smooth movement, aiming for Jaeden's midsection. Jaeden dodged to the left, narrowly avoiding a hit. He backed off a little, waiting with his sword at the ready.

Erik smiled slightly, amusement in his light green eyes. Jaeden growled at his friend in annoyance, shifting into a defensive stance. He knew that he had already lost, but refused to go down easily.

They began again, this time with Erik attacking and Jaeden defending. Even now, though, Jaeden saw the economy in Erik's movements, using as little energy as possibly in whatever he did.

"En guarde!" The unexpected shout from the side yard distracted Jaeden for a moment, and in that moment Erik knocked his sword aside and scored a hit.

"Victory!" He cried in his ever-calm voice, even when excited, brandishing his sword aloft.

"Hey!" Jaeden protested. "I was distrac—you—argh!" He thrust the wooden point of his sword into the hard-packed dirt, and stuck his tongue out at his best friend, not caring how childish it was. Distraction wasn't an excuse he could use in a swordfight.

Of course, Erik knew him too well to be anything but amused. "A warrior must always be alert," he chided in mock-severity, mimicking Kyr's voice remarkably well. "An opponent—"

"An opponent will always take any advantage you give him." Jaeden finished his father's maxim with a wry smile. "I know." He picked up his sword and saluted with it like they had been taught to do when defeated. Erik responded in kind, then punched Jaeden lightly in the arm.

"Work on you focus," he said good-naturedly. "You'll last longer that way."

"Work on your form, then," Jaeden countered in kind, slipping out of his competitive disappointment into their familiar banter. "You don't always react quick enough when I change attack patterns."

"Bah." Erik waved his hand dismissively. "Come on, let's see what Kain and Di are doing."

- - - - -

The city of Moire, capital of the Kingdom of Terien, was a crowded, bustling place. Visitors from all over came to trade, shop, rest, or any of the other hundreds of activities possible within the city's thick stone walls. Country folk who visited for the first time were always awed by the height and breadth of the walls, the width of the streets—the sheer dimension of the city, with its background dominated by the looming figure of the Royal Castle.

Moire was a hospitable town, welcoming and embracing strangers and outsiders within its walls. However, for the city's lower-class residents, in the places visitors seldom went, life was not always so easy.

This particular dusk, life was proving singularly difficult for two children in a deserted square. Deserted, that is, except for themselves and a small band of boys several years older than themselves.

"Well, what have we here?" Sneered a tall boy, obviously the leader of the youths, backed by his jeering gang. "Tell us, pray, what brings such fair beauties to our humble domain?"

The two "fair beauties" in question were currently backed up against the stone wall of a closed shop, holding each other's hands. The smaller, younger girl, her deep blue eyes wide in fright, huddled against her companion and whimpered quietly. The other girl, no more than a few years older than the first, nevertheless stood straight and proud, defiance plain in her eyes.

"None a' your business!" she exclaimed haughtily, tilting her small nose upward in distaste. The youth grinned back at his companions.

"Oh, I do believe it is," he drawled. "You see, Beauty, this here part of town is our ground, and trespassers have to pay, see?"

The others laughed uproariously at his statement, causing the first girl to cringe. The elder girl, however, merely sniffed at him in annoyance.

"We're not, you—you—_lout_," she settled on at last. "This is public property, and you can't ash—assault us for walking to the cobbler's!"

The boy stalked forward until he towered over the two, a wickedly amused smile ruining his otherwise adolescently handsome face.

"What do you think you can do about it, _little girl_?"

Sparks appeared in the girl's eyes. She pulled herself up to her full height, glaring up at him, even though she barely reached his chest. The younger girl tugged her hand urgently, her eyes darting nervously around at the semicircle of boys surrounding them. Continuing to hold the boy's gaze, the still-furious girl tilted her head a little to listen to her companion.

"Kayamé," the blue-eyed girl whispered so that the others wouldn't hear, "Momma'll be angry if you get in another fight. Please, don't!"

Kayamé seemed to consider this for a moment. Finally, she murmured from the corner of her mouth: "Only for you, Tarai. On three—One, two, three!"

In a flash, Kayamé released Tarai's hand and gave the unsuspecting youth a two-handed stomach-punch. He doubled over in pain, clutching his midsection, and before any of the boys could react the two girls ducked through a gap in their makeshift human barricade and sped away.

After several minutes of running what would seem like a complex obstacle course through the back ways of the city known only to a few, the girls finally slowed, panting heavily.

"Did we—huff—lose them?" Tarai asked, looking around worriedly.

"I think so," Kayamé replied after a moment, relaxing from her combination of alertness and fury. "Are you okay?"

The young girl nodded. "I wish they'd leave us alone!"

"You have to learn to stand up to them. Don't let 'em frighten you."

"I can't help it, Kay," Tarai said in childish annoyance. "I hate boys... they're just too scary."

"Hah! Maddening's more like it. Trying to bully us just 'cause were younger and shorter—if I were just a few years older..."

"Don't, Kay," Tarai begged urgently. "You can't fight them. I don't want you to get hurt, and Momma'll not give us money for food again if your dress rips one more time!"

Kayamé suddenly stiffened, her eyes wide with horror. "Ta, we didn't get Momma's shoes!"

Tarai gasped. "And she said no dinner without them! Kay, what'll do?"

Kayamé hugged her sister comfortingly, trying to keep her from panicking. "Um, let me think... The cobbler's will be closed 'afore we get back, and it's getting dark," Tarai tried unsuccessfully to suppress a shudder, "so we can't go home tonight. One of our Hides is near here, though, Ta, and so is a baker's. I'll see if I can beg some bread from there. We'll stay at the Hide until tomorrow, get the shoes and tell Momma it was too dark to come home by the time the cobbler gave us them. Okay?"

She pulled back to look at Tarai. The poor girl managed to nod, her short black hair bobbing around her face. "'K."

Kayamé squeezed Tarai's hand, then disappeared like a shadow into the gathering gloom. Tarai stood for a moment, gathering her bearings and her courage, then headed for the nearest of the places she and her sister called 'Hides'. They were small, hidden nooks in out-of-the-way places, able to escape detection from all but the extremely keen-eyed, which by some quirk of luck Kayamé was. She had found them all, and come up with idea of using them as hiding places when their mother was in an especially foul mood. Which, unfortunately, was all too often.

Tarai reached the Hide and crawled inside. It was an especially small one, barely big enough to accommodate both girls. However, it was a shelter from the wind or rain, and warmer than anywhere else would be. It was also dimly lit by the full moon, which was a relief to her. She hated to be alone in the dark, so the moon was a welcome friend.

She sat as far away from the entrance as she could, hugging her knees as she waited for Kayamé to return. Smart, beautiful, and brave Kayamé. She was the one who defended them both against people like those boys, and never flinched when Momma was drunk or angry, and always managed to know what to do. Though only two years older than Tarai's own five, Kayamé always seemed older while Tarai was always mistaken for being younger than she really was.

Tarai sighed quietly. She didn't mean to act so young, or be so quiet, or look so vulnerable; the people in Moire were just so scary that she couldn't help it. And Yin could be the scariest of them all, with her dark eyes that sparked just liked Kayam's when she was angry, and the raven hair all three of them possessed pulled back harshly from her face. Though she was still beautiful, it was marred in the eyes of her child by the bitterness in her eyes and sharp words to her daughters.

The young girl cringed unconsciously, anticipating the mood Momma would be in tomorrow morning due to their absence. She would be furious, unless someone or something had unexpectedly pleased her... a doubtful occurrence.

Tarai's thoughts were interrupted when Kayamé crept carefully inside the Hide. She carried with her a small loaf of bread, which she handed to Tarai. Tarai immediately tore a piece of and stuffed it in her mouth, hardly chewing before swallowing, then tore of another one. It was halfway to her mouth when she stopped.

"Kay," she asked suspiciously, "How much were you given?" Kayamé didn't answer. "You didn't eat anything, did you?" Her tone made it a statement, not a question. Kayamé nodded silently. Tarai sighed in frustration. "You can't always do that, Kay! You need food as much as I do." Kayamé started to protest, but with unusual determination Tarai pushed half the bread back into her sister's hands. "Eat."

After a few minutes Kayamé reluctantly obeyed little sister. Tarai was never like this around other people, but when it came to her sister, the backbone she seemed to lack made an appearance. It was useless to argue, and if Kayamé wanted Tarai to eat she would have to do so as well.

The two girls finished their meal, then settled down to sleep in the Hide. Kayamé sent a small prayer to the Creator that Tarai would learn to stand up for herself with everyone else, then surrendered to the realm of dreams.

- - - - -

AN: Now you've met all five girls, and glimpsed a few of the guys as well. Can't say quite when I'll update next, but reviews inspire me to make it sooner!

- - - - -

Reviewer thanks:

Ele: Thankee, Ellette! To anyone reading these notes, thank Ele for this story being posted at all. She is this story's muse, and encouraged me to post it for others to read. I'm writing, Ele, honest!

Denial: Thank you so very much. :) In all honesty, Fae is truly more an original fiction, but I borrowed enough for character development from the Senshi that I decided to just grab the Shitennou and be done with it. So, you get to read an extremely AU SM fanfiction instead.

So long,

Ocianne

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	3. Songs and Lessons

- - - - -  
Chapter Three: Songs and Lessons  
- - - - -

-Two Years Later -

The evening sky was ablaze with deep reds and purples spreading out from the setting sun. The majestic colors slowly deepened and darkened as the sun slipped behind the horizon. The final rays of light reflected brightly off the Lisk as the river-turned-brook flowed past the cottage on its way to the sea.

The cottage itself stood proudly against the dark, lamplight shining in the windows as a beacon of hope and warmth, friendly and inviting. The cool fall night reflected the same atmosphere, one without fear or danger for those out in it. As if to fill the quietness of the night, from the partly-open window came the light, airy sound of a flute, and a child's voice singing.

"O! Come out you little people with your flowing glossy hair,  
With your shining rows of pearls, with your skin so pure and fair.  
O! Come out you little people, you who dress in silver-grey,  
You who live among the spruces and who know the færie way."

Iris twirled around the wooden floors of the cottage's main room in an impromptu dance as she sang. Despite her blindness, she was surprisingly graceful and coordinated as she moved. She traveled about the room with an unerring sense of position, not once even coming close to hitting a piece of furniture. Only someone aware of her handicap would ever realize that she was blind; her manner did nothing to reveal it.

Miki smiled to herself as she played the flute accompaniment to Iris song. Iris constantly exceeded all the wildest dreams she had ever held for her child.

"You are golden, you are silver, you are mixing of the light.  
Of the World behind the sunrise, yet epitome of night.  
Are you stars? Are you færies? Mayhap something in between?  
For you sail the skies at twilight, and you know the Færie Queene."

As the song reached the last line, Iris returned to the center of the floor. She stood uncharacteristically still as she sang the final words, her hands clasped in front of her and her face upturned in childish ecstasy.

The last strains of the duet faded away, to be replaced by the enthusiastic applause of Aran. "Wonderful!" he exclaimed, beaming proudly at his two girls. Iris giggled and curtsied, and Miki nodded in return, returning the flute to its case.

"I'm glad you liked it, Papa," Iris said, skipping over to him. He picked her and placed her in his lap, where she snuggled down comfortably.

"So, what else has your mother been teaching you while I was gone? More songs and dancing?"

"Whatever she wants, as always," Miki said with fond smile. "Why don't you recite your latest lesson, Iris?"

Iris nodded, and closed her eyes in concentration.

"When the Creator first made the world, he created the Fae and the Humans. Humans were gifted with physical strength and adaptability, and Fae were children of the five elements in the world: Air, Water, Fire, Earth, and Nature. These races of Fae were given the names of Sylph, Ondine, Hirei, Tienchi, and Dryad. Each Fae tribe lived where their element was most common, with the Human race living in settlements across the continent, often with the Fae tribes.

"The Fae and the Humans lived together in harmony. The Fae tribes were united in an empire, and the Humans had their own capital and Kingdom. There were no wars. Then, still so long ago that no one remembers, a disagreement between the two races' leaders drove them apart. Humans abandoned their settlements among the Fae, and gathered in a single place on the continent. Since that time, Human civilization has spread, and towns and places like our house almost like they once were.

"However, Fae and Human relations have never gone beyond an uneasy truce. The people are taught lies about the other race, and live in fear or hatred of them. Only the leaders know the truth, but they use the lies to stay in power. War is brewing, from both sides, and everyone either doesn't know how or doesn't want to stop it..."

Iris slowly trailed off into silence, her rhythmic breathing indicating that she had fallen asleep. Taking care not to disturb her, Aran carried her into the back of the house and tucked her beneath the covers of her bed. When he returned Miki sat on the couch staring at the crackling fire in the fireplace. After blowing out the lamps he joined her there, and for a while they sat together in a comfortable silence.

"It's good to have you home, Aran," Miki said finally. "We both miss you when you're gone."

"I wish I could be home more often, but we can't risk falling behind in what's going on in the world."

"I know. Do you think we'll manage to succeed, though?"

"Iris is a smart girl. Even if she's only six now, maybe in another ten years she'll be able to do what we couldn't before. She'll know the truth, and will want to make it right."

"But will she be able to, Aran? She has a wonderful heart, but she's so isolated here. How will she manage to survive in the world long enough to change it, with no experience?"

Aran sighed and took one of Miki's hands in his own.

"As for that... we can only hope that she'll find help. We can't risk going back. If someone were to recognize one of us..."

"You're right, but I still wish we could do more. Our last—the entire world's last— hope for the future rests with her, and all we can do is trust in our abilities to train her up right."

"Which is why your time with her is so important, so that she knows the true Fae and Human lore. Then she can teach others the truth as well. Someday she'll know the importance of what we're teaching her, even the songs. However," Aran added with a slight smile, "at the moment I'd like to get some sleep tonight before being abruptly awakened by an overly energetic young girl in the morning."

Miki laughed, and together the couple retired for the night.

Outside, the moon shone softly on the quiet landscape. The land rested, waiting as only a romantically personified entity could wait for when times would change for the better.

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AN: Hey, some story exposition! And an actual leap forward in time, even. Someday I might even reach the point in time when everyone meets everyone else. But that'll be a while. You have to put up with my journey through the girls' childhood. ::hehehe::

Credit for Iris' song in this chapter goes to Ele, who is officially _Fae's_ muse. And beta reader. And the one who actually bugs me to write. Thank you, Elette! This one's for you! ::Hugs::.

I hope to update again by next weekend, but I can't promise anything. ::mumbles something indistinct about too many classes:: Still, reviews inspire me to write faster!

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Reviewer thanks:

Gwfreak315: Thanks! Yeah, _Fae_ is extremely un-fanfic-like, but hey, I like it that way. :)

DragonAngel3: Yes, Iris is Serena, and Ayslin is Mina. Sorry that the generals are hard to guess, but there _is_ a good reason for it. They'll be more recognizable next time you see them, I hope.

Denial: Bravo! ::applause:: And, indeed, Kayamé is Rei, Dyani is Lita, and Tarai is Ami. I'm glad you like it!

PyroChic: Ooh, I've got a "fabulous"! Thanks ever-so much!

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I'd give all of you wonderful readers a sneak preview, but there's nothing written to preview, alas. -.- I'll just try to update soon instead.

See you next time!

Ocianne

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	4. Essays and Secrets

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Chapter Four: Essays and Secrets  
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-Fae Empire: Girls' Training Institution-

Ayslin sighed as she stared at the blank sheet of paper on her desk. Her teacher had gotten frustrated with her vehement attitude against humans and sent her to an empty study room, away from her classmates. _Nii_ Sarin had assigned her an essay to write too, while she "consulted with her superiors".

It was awful, really. Not only was her future being decided right now, but it was happening because she was voicing and defending opinions that she believed to be untrue. Her entire life depended on her ability to maintain an effective facade. No girl her age should have to think in such a sly way, to be so suspicious of everyone and everything around her, and not even be able to show it.

She pushed the thoughts filling her mind to one side. No amount of worrying would influence her fate, and she still had an essay to write. She twirled her pen in her fingers thoughtfully as she considered her topic. A page or more on the Sylph-clan of the Fae, while not impossible, wasn't particularly easy either, especially when her _Nii_ had remembered to specify that her printing be small and neat.

To appear busy, Ayslin dipped her pen in the inkwell and chewed thoughtfully on her lip. Carefully, she titled the blank sheet, adding her name, group number, and her teacher's name. Then, after a few minutes of thought, she began to write.

_Sylphs are one of the five Fae clans, and tied to air and wind. They prefer the open fields to habituate, but can be found anywhere. Like all Fae, they can change size at will, but not exceed the height of a tall human. Of the clans, Sylphs have the most pure, raw magic power, although Ondines have the greatest ability to heal._

_Sylphs hold power in the Fae ruling hierarchy due to their magic power and multiple noble families. Sylphs have high positions both in the King's Advisors and and in the Enforcers, the elite guards in the Kingdom._

More like elite bullies and assassins, Ayslin thought bitterly. Enforcers were the obedient children of the Fae nobles, on beck and call for missions of all types, from bodyguards for the more powerful noblefae to "dealing with troublemakers", which meant the quieting by any means necessary of discontent or rebellious commonfae. It was a sad system, Ayslin knew, and there was nothing she could do about it. At least, nothing right now. Someday, however, a large number of pompous, corrupt, disgusting, puppeteering fae would find themselves in a very uncomfortable position.

Ayslin smiled coldly to herself, and continued writing. However, the thought of the Enforcers disrupted her concentration from her writing. The Enforcers was the reason for her "unusual and slightly disconcerting behavior", as she had once heard one teacher say to another when speaking about her.

After all, she was not scared of Humans as her classmates were, though not for the reasons her teachers suspected. She believed that the stories her father had told her during her short visits home were true, and the school's "truths" had no effect on her that she didn't initiate consciously.

Unfortunately, she could do nothing about her lot as a member of Fae society, but she could try and avoid being nothing more than a meek, frightened wife of some noble. When girls did not react in fear to the abominations Humans supposedly committed, they were transferred to the boys' classes, and trained to think of humans with such hatred that it could be called an art form.

She would be taught to fight, and think, and plan, and would be given as much respect as was possible for a Fae-woman to earn. Once she graduated from school, she could have her pick of jobs, and if she could act well enough, she might even manage to pass the rigorous entrance requirements of the Enforcers...

And once she her supposed "loyalty" to the Noblefae had been proven strong enough to merit a rank in the Enforcers, there was no telling what she could do. She would only have to wait for the right moment.

_Sylphs tend to hold jobs in Fae society as Enforcers, or as messengers, because their lands connect to most other Fae areas, and their wings make it easy to travel between Fae habitats. The wings of Sylphs are transparent, and can disappear or reappear at will. This is a part of Faes' powers of disguise, which allows them to take on the appearance of humans._

Ayslin considered her last sentence for a moment, then carefully erased the word "human" and replaced it with "the lesser race". She was a human-hater, and had to show it, no matter how much it privately disgusted her.

She sighed inwardly. The things she did in order to be able to someday search for, (and hopefully find), truth, justice, and the proper way of things. The Fae world was corrupt, she knew that for a fact, and there seemed to be no way to change it. Yet.

Somewhere, there was a way, and someday, she would find it. But she wondered how long she could pretend without being adversely affected. Hopefully, long enough.

_I'll find the truth, Papa, and tell the rest of the world, no matter what happens._

Hopefully.

- - - - -

In a private room, a scrying mirror on one of the walls showed Ayslin as she wrote at her desk. A man and a woman stood near it, talking together and occasionally glancing at the mirror.

"You are sure about this, Sarin?"

"Yes, Sir," the female said respectfully. "She is not like other girls. She is... difficult. She does not react as her classmates do, and causes disturbances while I teach. One could even call her overzealous."

"Strange, for a female to react so strongly, and against the normal way."

"Rare, Sir, certainly. Speaking from experience, Sir, she should be transferred immediately to the extremist class in the boys' institution. Keeping her here will do no good for anyone, and she could even be a danger if she remains."

"You are her _Nii_, Sarin, so I suppose your judgment is trustworthy in this matter. If you say she should be transferred, then we will do so as soon as possible. Hopefully she will do better in the different environment."

"If anything will work, Sir, it's this. The chance to work out her anger can only be good for her."

"Yes. Well, Sarin, I'll leave you to get back to your _other_ girls. From what your colleagues tell me, you do good work with them."

"Thank you, Sir. I do my best."

"Indeed." The man nodded, and the woman turned to leave.

"Sarin."

The woman paused at the door. "Yes, Sir?"

"How did you reach your position? Even here, with the girls, there are mostly men teachers."

The woman smiled. "I was unique as well, Sir. However, I was not so… extreme as young Ayslin. For those such as me, there are _special_ classes that other students know nothing about. We are allowed into the circle, Sir, because we have the mindset for it. Ayslin's sort are too headstrong, and while they might make good warriors, they will never be the schemers."

"An interesting choice of words, Sarin. Dismissed."

The woman disappeared into the main halls of the institution, leaving the man alone with his thoughts.

"The schemers... but who is to say that the warriors can never scheme too, Sarin? You never asked where _I_ came from, after all." He smiled to himself. "Warriors can make the best schemers, Sarin, because they're not expected to be."

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AN: I'm sorry! I've neglected you awfully! I really, really, hate writer's block. During this downtime, though, I've managed to plot out more of the story, which is a good thing.

A little more into Ayslin's character, since she has a rather short scene before. And, we wonder, will she make it through ten years of pretending unscathed? _I_ don't even know yet. :P And _Nii_ is the Fae word for teacher or instructor, just to clarify.

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Reviewer thanks:

PyroChic: Bravo, masterful guesswork. I tried to keep the boys' names close to their original ones, but unique too. I couldn't stand having _another_ Zoi-turned-Zach. -.-

Lilian: I still can't believe I have reviews from _you_! ::huggles happily:: Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Denial: I won't, I promise! No matter how long it takes, I'll definitely see this story to the end. After all, I want to find out what happens.

Elette: Ahhh! Yes'm, whatever you say! ::scurries off to write::

DoOdles: Thank ye!

Kaze: And again, thank ye. I try hard to write well, and balance between dialogue and description.

Dragon Angel3: I'm so glad that I'm making people want more, I'm always afraid that people will lose interest and stop reading.

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Thank you all for your encouragement! See you next time.

Ocianne

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	5. Dreams

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_Edited: 12-3-03 (Thank you, ish, for pointing out errors. They should be fixed now!)_

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Chapter Five: Dreams  
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The soft, pre-dawn light chased the shadows of the night away as it crept quietly across the landscape. It made its way across the Continent until it reached Ryven, where only the tower guards on duty were awake, searching the lingering haze for threats. The townspeople had yet to wake from slumber.

In a house at the town's edge, the muffled snores of Jaeden came from the upper bunk of his and Kain's bed. Below Jaeden, Kain wrestled with his blankets in his sleep, caught up in a dream. His movements grew more agitated and frantic, until he suddenly flew upright into a sitting position, his eyes snapping open into full alertness.

Panting heavily, he slipped out of bed and moved to the open window, tearing the fine netting secured across it from its pins. Though it worked perfectly in keeping everything but air out of the room, it blocked him from easily accessing said air from inside. He stuck his head outside and gratefully inhaled the cool autumn air, closing his eyes for a moment as he regained his breath and let the peaceful morning atmosphere soothe his nerves. It had only been a dream.

Once calm, he withdrew inside again and re-attached the netting to the window frame, then methodically followed his morning routine, since it was unlikely that he would be able to go back to sleep. However, since the motions of preparing for the day were thoroughly memorized by his subconscious mind, he had plenty of opportunity to dwell on his nightmare.

It had been strange. He had been in Ryven, doing something perfectly innocent that he couldn't remember clearly anymore, but had made sense at the time, and then everything... changed. The sky darkened to night, only to be lit by scattered fires. He heard screams echoing from places he couldn't see, slightly muffled, but heart wrenching. They were death-screams.

He had run, not caring that a stray arrow could have hit him from his highly exposed position in the street. He had to get home, had to know if any of the screams were his mother's or father's. Or Jaeden's. He had always felt responsible for his younger brother, and if anything had happened to him... Kain shuddered.

In his hurry he had almost slipped on a pool of blood seeping from a fatally wounded man onto the ground. The red liquid had turned the packed dirt of the street slippery, but he managed to keep his balance and continued running. The man's face had thankfully been hidden, allowing him to escape the sight of the man's dying agony, but he had recognized the type of arrow protruding from his stomach.

Even in dreams, Kain's mind noticed the little things, the details few people ever consciously acknowledged. There was always a small part of him that never felt anything, only observed the world from behind his eyes and recorded it with meticulous accuracy, able to be recalled at any time in perfect detail.

It had been doing that then, and as he'd continued to run the image of the arrow silently screamed at him. Ryven fletchers always used at least four feathers in an arrows fletching. The one in the man had three, and that meant only one thing.

Bandits.

Spurred onwards with renewed urgency, Kain raced home past fighting, fires, dead and wounded. His family's house lay just within the boundary marked by the guard towers, which made it extremely vulnerable during bandit raids. So far the house (and his family) had escaped unscathed during previous raids, but it was impossible to tell if luck would hold.

He had slowed to halt in front of the house, but before he could do anything the front door had opened and a bandit exited. He held a sword, and Kain had frozen instantly at the sight, despite reminding himself that the blood on it could belong to anyone... Before he could do anything else, though, the bandit had spotted him. And, in the treacherous manner of dreams, he had remained immobile even as the bandit had stepped menacingly toward him and brandished the bloodstained sword. The bandit had smiled mockingly at him, swung his sword—

—and he had woken up.

Kain shuddered at the memory, and forcefully shoved it into the back of his mind. He might have a photographic memory, but for the most part he could control what it was he remembered. It had only been a dream, and dreams meant nothing to the real world.

Instead, he focused on stopping his ash-blonde hair from sticking up at odd angles. It was too short to pull back into a ponytail, but just long enough to be irritating. He glared at his reflection as he ran a comb through his hair repeatedly. Finally, after much frustration, his hair decided to settle down in an orderly fashion. Satisfied with his appearance, Kain wandered into the main room of the house, which held the kitchen, living room, and dining room, and rummaged up some breakfast.

While munching on a slice of bread, Kain glanced at a flat, wooden shelf attached to the wall near the doorway to the back rooms of his house. A carved grid divided the wood into small squares. In the leftmost column, the first square was blank, but in each of the four squares beneath the names of Kain, Jaeden, and their parents were carved. In the uppermost column, following the blank square were squares in which various places around the house and the town were carved. Kain's father, Kyr, had carved the board so that the grid of squares could be used to keep track of where each person in the family was currently located. It was a simple system that worked perfectly, except for when Jaeden forgot to update his stone marker for an extended period of time. His memory was improving, though, albeit slowly.

Currently, going by the grid, Kain discovered that while his mother, Renée, was still asleep, Kyr was on guard duty in one of the towers. Kain's father was one of Ryven's most able warriors, and head of the town guards. It was because of their father's position that Kain and Jaeden had met Dyani and Erik, since they were the youngest children of the mayor. However, it also meant that his father was often absent at odd hours.

His father did try to spend as much time as possible with Kain and Jaeden, but the town's overall safety was more important. Kain understood that, and was proud of his father for it. He wished to be a guard and protect the townspeople himself when he was old enough, which was why he worked so hard to learn swordsmanship and planned to learn archery as well.

Kain finished his breakfast and moved his marker to show that he was going "out". It was the best choice, since he didn't know exactly where he could feasibly go so early in the morning. Maybe to the mayor's house, to watch the sunrise. As the largest house in town, Mayor Drion's house had two stories, and the roof gave any strong, flexible youngster the best view of the town possible, since only adults were allowed in the guard towers. Kain nodded decisively to himself and ventured out into the cool morning air.

The sunrise was indeed beautiful, turning the sky a panorama of colors as the sun's first rays peeked over the horizon. Kain watched in silence. He enjoyed the quiet of the early morning solitude, but could rarely take advantage of it. He, along with the rest of Ryven's youths, attended the town's school every morning except for Solsday, the first day of every week. On Solsday, however, (unlike Jaeden, who relished the opportunity to sleep in), Kain would often come to watch the sunrise.

The last bright colors faded into the pale blue sky, and the sounds of a lively town began in the streets below. Kain sighed at the intrusion of noise in the once-peaceful morning air, but resigned himself to the fact that a bustling town could never be completely still, even on Solsday.

Still, he mused to himself, his lips curving into a smile, now the day had begun. There was no "official" curfew or time of waking in Ryven, but by tradition the day began at sunup and ended an hour past the lighting of the watchlamps at sundown. Once the sun had risen, the day began, and the others, all of whom enjoyed their sleep, couldn't complain if he woke them up, no matter how early in the day he did so.

Scooting down the wood-shingled incline of the roof, Kain crouched at the edge. A leap away from the roof in the Mayor's rear yard stood a flagpole of polished wood, which proudly bore the town flag of Ryven: a simple rectangle of woven cloth dyed a deep blue, except for a white horizontal stripe along the top and bottom. Kain jumped and dexterously caught the flagpole several feet below the flag, then slid down to the ground. He quickly hoisted himself over the low wooden fence surrounding the mayor's house, and trotted home.

Along the way, he amused himself by considering the best way to wake Jaeden up. By the time he reached the house, he couldn't keep a small grin off his face as he went to soak a cloth in the cold water of the washbasin...

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Author's Note: Kain's turn in the spotlight, although the chances of a return appearance from his point of view are rather slim. The next scene will also be in Ryven, hence the fact that Chapter 5 is being broken into two parts, but from a different perspective. Kain's rather hard to write, simply because his character eludes me, at least until much later in this story. I wanted to try and get a glimpse of Kain as he is now, especially his concern and protectiveness for his family and friends. (Not sure how well I conveyed that, though. You know it now, at least.)

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Reviewer thanks:

Kourui: Thanks! I'm trying to make the characters three-dimensional and well rounded. Glad you like them!

Lilian: I'm so glad you like this! And yes, Minako is having to hide a _lot_ in this story.

TK: Hurrah, you finally reviewed! Thanks for all comments, dear! points at Mii-chan Say hello to my beta-reader! :D

Firenza: Another new reader, hurrah! Thanks for the review.

Ele: Yes, Ayslin's a fun character. They all are, really.

PyroChic: I'm trying to update, honest! :)

ish: Woah. O.o That's a long review. Thank you sooo much for your comments. I'm especially glad you like my writing style, since that's one thing I'm also unsure of. Yeah, the girls don't quite seem real, despite my best efforts to make them so... Part of it's because their flaws are sometimes hide-able, so that people don't notice, or there hasn't been a situation that reveals it. I hope to bring their flaws to light more as the story progresses. Thanks for catching the typo, too. I hope you like this chapter. (And just so you know, one of Kain's flaws comes _next_ chapter. :))

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So many reviews! Thank you, and keep it up! (And if you just found the story, review it too! Please? ó.ò)

'Til next time,

Ocianne

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	6. Solsday

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Chapter Six: Solsday  
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Kyr Merin opened the front door just in time to hear his younger son's outraged yell. He quickly hurried to the room, but stopped short just outside the doorway. If looks could kill, Kain would currently be a smear on wooden floor, judging by the death glare Jaeden was giving his older brother from the raised perch of his bed. Clenched in one of Jaeden's fists was a soaking wet cloth, and his face and golden bangs were also wet. Between that and Kain's uproarious laughter, it was obvious that Jaeden's rude awakening had been caused by the cloth being unceremoniously dropped on his face.

With an aggravated scowl, Jaeden threw the cloth at Kain. Kyr noted with amusement that his son aim was quite good—the cloth scored a direct hit on Kain's head. However, it was probably time to intervene.

"Boys, what's going on here?" he asked with affected sternness.

His sons both looked up immediately, surprised. As a rule, he was rarely angry, unless they had been disobedient or had lied to him. After a moment, the expression in Kain's eyes shifted from confusion to comprehension. Despite his best efforts, Kyr had never been able to maintain a straight face for very long. The side of his mouth twitched in an attempt to suppress his smile.

"I was merely waking Jaeden up, father," Kain said before Jaeden could marshal his thoughts.

"Indeed? With a refreshing, healthy dose of cold water?"

Kain ducked his head momentarily to hide a smile of his own from Jaeden, who had since leapt down from his bed to the floor. "Yes, father. The day has already begun, but he was still sleeping."

"But it's Solsday!" Jaeden protested weakly, knowing Kain had already won the unspoken argument Kyr was listening to. Jaeden relished his sleep, making it a chore to convince him to leave his bed on _any_ morning. Kain always had this responsibility, and to make it easier on him Kyr had given him permission to use whatever means needed to wake Jaeden up. Kyr regarded his sons carefully for a moment, considering the judgment that this particular situation merited.

"Jaeden," he said at last, "the sun's rising gives Kain cause to wake you, although his manner was... unorthodox. Since you're awake now, make your bed and prepare for the rest of the day. Kain, find Jaeden breakfast, then let him tag along wherever it is that you decide to go today. It's time for my "night's" sleep and I don't need any similar disturbances."

Both boys nodded obediently and went about their assigned tasks. Kyr always took his chances to rest seriously, because the time of his next opportunity was never a given thing. Accident or illness often conspired to leave a watchpost empty, and if no other replacement could be found then he was the one to take the absent guard's place.

He had, in fact, been doing that last night. Saidi Serden, Mayor Drion's eldest son and a recent addition to the guards, had managed to injure himself in an overenthusiastic sparring match yesterday. Kyr sighed as he entered the bedroom he and Renée shared. Though 21, Saidi still possessed an impetuousness that would one day be his downfall. As an excellent bowman, he was a welcome addition to the guards, but he definitely lacked maturity and wisdom. Which was why Kyr had spent the past 24 hours franticallyrevising the guard shifts schedule, and then standing in for Saidi on the boy's nighttime shift when there were no other options available.

He didn't blame the lad, not when he was so eager to prove himself, but Kyr hoped that Saidi would quickly learn that respect would come in time, not immediately. He would expose himself to too many dangerous risks if he continued on his current path. Kyr shook his head as he placed his sheathed sword in a corner of the room. The energy of youth could not make up for the rashness that usually accompanied it.

Determinedly banishing all thoughts of Saidi and of his duties from his thoughts, Kyr changed out of his grimy clothes and climbed into bed. He smiled at Renée, who still slept despite Jaeden's outcry and Kain's laughter, and thought to himself for the umpteenth time that he was the luckiest man in the world. Renée understood his devotion to the town, and never complained about his odd working hours or frequent absences. He loved her with all his heart, and even though he could never deserve her, she loved him in return. He lay down beside her beneath the blankets and gave a sigh of complete contentment.

Everything was perfect.

- - - - -

Kain tapped his foot impatiently against the wooden floor as he waited for Jaeden to finish getting ready. Finally, he emerged from the back of the house, raking his fingers through his golden-blonde locks. He wolfed down his breakfast as Kain retrieved their training swords from their room.

"What's today's plan?" Jaeden asked as he stuck his sword through his belt. Kain did likewise.

"First we'll see if Erik's awake yet," Kain said.

Jaeden grinned mischievously as they shut the front door behind them. "I wanna wake him up!"

"Knowing him, you won't get the chance to," Kain replied.

Indeed, Erik was already up and in his father's library by the time Jaeden and Kain arrived. Mayor Drion's library was the largest in Ryven, and filled an entire room in the house. When not training (or attending the town school), Erik could usually be found reading in one of the large, overstuffed chairs in the middle of the room. The brothers entered to find him engrossed in a book on astronomy. Jaeden shook his head at the studiousness of his best friend. It was Solsday, by the Creator, and Erik was _reading_!

Well, if he couldn't wake Erik up, then at least he could try to scare him. Books were one of Erik's worst weaknesses—usually he was too alert for Jaeden to sneak up behind him, but when his nose got stuck in a book he lost that particular sense of awareness. Taking full advantage of this knowledge, Jaeden crept up behind the chair Erik occupied, took a deep breath, and then proceeded to yell directly into his friend's ear.

The reaction was, as always, priceless. The book flew majestically through the air and landed with a loud thump among a heap of others, while Erik himself half-jumped and half-fell out of his chair. By that time, he had re-gathered his scattered wits and shifted into a defensive position against his unknown assailant. However, said assailant was laughing so hard that he had to use the chair to support himself.

With a sigh, Erik straightened and waited for Jaeden to calm down. "Morning, Kain," he said amiably. "Enjoy the sunrise?"

"Hey, how did you know?"

"You land right above my bedroom when you jump on the roof, you know. You're too heavy to land without making noise now."

"Oh. Sorry." Kain smiled sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it. Jaeden, are you done yet?" Erik added, glancing at his friend. With great effort, Jaeden managed to pull himself together. As he did, the door opened and Dyani stuck her head in.

"Erik, is som'n laughing in here?" she asked, the last vestiges of sleep still clinging to her causing her to mumble slightly.

"You missed Jaeden startling Erik, Di," Kain said. "So yes, Jaeden was laughing his head off until just now."

"Oh." Dyani went and sat in the chair Erik had recently vacated and looked at the boys expectantly. "So, what're we doing today?"

Jaeden and Erik exchanged glances. Dyani was great, as girls went, since she didn't make a fuss over perfectly normal things like bugs and getting dirty, but she was still a little sister. The unwritten Code of Older Brothers (And Friends) stated that little sisters were supposed to be teased mercilessly or ordered away, neither of which worked very well on her. The code could only be ignored to certain extent, or the two boys would be the ridicule of their schoolfellows. It was bad enough that they tolerated her as much as they did.

Before either boy could come to a conclusion about what to do with her, a whispered exchange passed between Kain and Dyani, and Kain spoke. "You two interested in a friendly duel?"

"What?!" Jaeden exclaimed incredulously. "Two against one? You wouldn't last a minute against us!"

"No!" Dyani interrupted sharply. "You two against the two of us."

Erik eyed his sister with equal incredulity. Sure, he had seen her practice with a staff occasionally, but not anytime recently... "You think you can match us?"

"Come on, Erik," Jaeden said. "Let's do it!"

Erik nodded and the two Serdens retrieved their respective training weapons from their rooms, then met Jaeden and Kain in their rear yard. Like most, it was dry, packed dirt with a perimeter of grass and other plants.

"Sudden Death?" Erik asked.

"Yes," Kain replied. Any hit to the torso would "kill" the "wounded" person, forcing him or her to sit out for the remainder of the duel. Whichever team lost both members first would be the loser. The two teams squared off against each other and without ceremony their duel began.

At first, Kain and Dyani possessed the upper hand, with Kain launching the main offensive and Dyani attacking wherever she found an opening. Jaeden and Erik were forced to remain defensive, and each received several cuts and bruises on various limbs from a successful hit. Kain and Dyani remained relatively unscathed.

However, as he observed his sister while fending Kain off, Erik noticed that she was becoming overaggressive and occasionally leaving herself unprotected. He considered thee likelihood of success of various plans of action, anfeventually concluded that there was only one way for he and Jaeden to win, and he didn't like it much. However, he was slowly tiring, and knew that Jaeden was worse at conserving his energy the Erik was himself. With a mental sigh, he waited for the most opportune moment to execute his plan.

Within a few minutes, that moment came. Dyani, impatient to win, overextended her staff in an attempt to perform a Dual-hit maneuver, a somewhat complicated staff move above her level of skill. She moved too slowly in its execution, which allowed Erik to break off from parrying Kain sword and stab her in the side with the blunted tip of his own wooden sword.

By doing so, Erik left Jaeden alone and outmatched, and Kain was able to immediately disarm and "kill" him. Before Kain could turn to do the same to him, however, Erik hastily ducked and swung his sword upwards and across, hitting Kain in the lower torso in a movement that would have probably have slit open Kain's abdomen had they been fighting with real weapons. A second later, Erik's sword was on the ground and he would soon have a nice bruise on his side, but it was too late. He and Jaeden had won.

Kain stared at Erik for a moment, his gray-green eyes full of shocked disbelief. Then the older boy whipped off the fastest loser's salute Erik had ever seen and disappeared over the low fence into the town streets. Still somewhat stunned himself that his plan had worked, Erik turned to where Jaeden and Dyani were picking themselves up off of the ground.

"I can't believe you did that!" Jaeden cried. "You let him kill me!"

"It was the only way for us to win. I didn't want to, Jaeden, honest."

Jaeden relented at Erik's earnestness. Erik wasn't one to lie, and his reasoning made sense. "All right, if you say so. Ha ha, we win!" he gloated, punching the air with a fist and doing a wiggling victory dance that looked ridiculous. Dyani growled and poked him in the ribs, causing him to quickly retreat out of her reach, since he was extremely ticklish. As he did, he finally noticed Kain's absence. "Where'd Kain go?"

With a shrug, Erik pointed in the direction Kain had gone. "He ran off that way. It was weird. You should probably go after him, Jae."

"Aw, he can take care of himself."

"You missed seeing his face. Besides, Kain isn't one to do something like that, you know?"

Jaeden nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I better see what's wrong with him. See you later." He hoisted himself over the fence was lost to sight.

Erik then turned to Dyani, who was leaning despondently against her staff. "You know why you guys lost?"

"Yeah. I messed up," she said miserably. "Kain's gonna hate me."

"No, he won't, Di," Erik said as they returned inside. "Do you know why I got you?"

"No." She sat in one of the large chairs in the library and pulled her knees up to her chin.

"You left yourself open, for one. And two, you tried to do a move in a fight that you haven't practiced enough to know. Only use something in a fight when you know it by heart."

"That easy for you to say!" Dyani bristled. "You get trained by Master Kyr himself. I've only been taught little bits of staff-fighting by Kain, and he's learning sword-fighting."

"And that's all you'll be taught, Dyani," interrupted a new voice. Liessa Serden stood in the doorway, frowning severely at her daughter. "Ladies don't fight. That's for the men. Since you have so much unusedtime, I've decided it's time that you learn proper woman's work."

"But mother—"

"No buts, young lady," Liessa said sternly. "We'll start today, to keep you out of any more mischief. Now you go wash up and change out of Erik's old clothes. It's a mystery how you ever got hold of them in the first place. Come to the kitchen when you're done and you can help me make midday."

Knowing better than to protest further, Dyani reluctantly obeyed. Liessa also bustled off to her work, leaving Erik alone in the library once more. With nothing else to occupy his time, he retrieved his book on astronomy and returned to reading.

- - - - -

Jaeden spent the remainder of the day searching off and on for Kain, but no one could give him very helpful information towards his brother's whereabouts. He even checked their house several times, though he refrained from telling his mother about Kain's disappearance. His father, fortunately, had at first still been asleep and then had already left for his next watch, so he didn't question Jaeden about why he wasn't with Kain.

Eventually, Jaeden came to the conclusion that his brother had either disappeared off the Continent, become invisible, or changed his choice of solitude multiple times throughout the day. Since the first two choices weren't physically possible, he was forced to admit to the third, which was merely irritating instead of ridiculous.

Just as the sun began to disappear behind the trees, Jaeden decided to recheck one last possibility. Returning to Erik's house, he entered the rear yard and hoisted himself up polished wood of the flagpole.

There, lying on the slopped roof with his hands behind his head and his sword at his side, was Kain. He remained silent as Jaeden sat down beside him, ignoring the blonde in favor of watching the changing colors of the sky.

"Kain..."

"I shouldn't have lost, Jae," Kain said abruptly. "I've had five more years of training than you and Erik. If I can't beat you, how can I protect you? And I know your going to say that you don't want my protection, or something like that, but you're honestly pretty awful with a sword, Jaeden. You've got a long way to go before you'll be dangerous with one." He paused, but continued before Jaeden could respond. "It's my duty to protect you and mother when father's on watch. I wanted to prove that I could. And failed."

Jaeden sighed to himself. "Erik got a lucky strike in at you, and Dyani isn't exactly the best person to have as a teammate. Besides, like father says all the time, it's okay to lose in practice, as long as you learn to not lose that way in a real fight."

"Mm." Kain continued to stare upwards at the sky.

With nothing else to say, Jaeden joined him and together the two silently watched the sky darken. Below them, lamplighters lit the watchlamps which lined the streets and shops began their closing routines. Finally, Kain stood.

"Come on, let's go home," he said. "Dinner should be about ready."

When they reached their house, Jaeden stopped Kain in front of their front door. "I didn't tell mom that you disappeared today."

He was rewarded with a brief smile of gratitude from Kain before they went inside.

Dinner was still cooking, so after greeting their mother Kain and Jaeden went to clean up. As they did, Jaeden asked Kain a question that had been bothering him for most of the day.

"Where _were_ you today? I looked everywhere."

"I spent some time out at the river, and just walking around town, then went back to the roof of Erik's house."

"Oh. So what do we tell mom?"

"That we went to Erik's. It's the truth."

"Ah." Kain had at some point learned the art of speaking selectively, something Jaeden had not yet ever managed to do well.

Jaeden finished cleaning up and arranged his books for school the next day. Finding a mathematics problem that remained unfinished, in a bout of uncharacteristic scholarliness he applied himself to calculating the correct answer. The unusual day had put him off of his normal evening pursuits, and he wanted something to occupy himself besides staring at the wall.

At last, Renée called that dinner was ready and the three sat down to eat. Jaeden ate silently, allowing Kain to talk and answer her questions about their day. When they finished, he and Kain began to clean up. Their mother had been emphatic that her sons learn how to take care of themselves, since, as she always said, there was no telling how long it would be before they found women who would put up with them.

Just as Jaeden handed Kain a cup to put away in one of the cabinets, a sound caused the cup to slip from his suddenly nerveless fingers and hit the floor with a sharp thud. The guardtower alarm bells were ringing wildly. Now that he was listening, the unmistakable sounds of fighting could now be heard outside, and the crackle of fire accompanied shouts of triumph and cries of terror.

Instantly, Renée reacted by barring the front door with the heavy wooden crossbar and dashing into the back of the house to do the same to the rear door. Kain grabbed Jaeden's wrist and followed her after pulling something away from where it was secured beneath the wide lip of the wooden countertop.

They appeared at the opening of the small hallway between the bedrooms leading to the back door just as it slammed inwards. Renée gave a small scream of fear and stumbled back towards where the two boys stood, unmoving.

- - - - -

AN: Cliffhanger! ::runs behind barricade constructed against angry fans:: Please don't kill me! I gave you an extra-long chapter to make up for it! ::watches statement fail to appease:: Ah, nurn. Well, anyway, that was more of the lives of the Ryven group. Please, tell me what you think! (Reviews give inspiration, which means a quicker update.)

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Reviewer thanks:

neoqueen: Glad you liked it.

PyroChic: Well, there's your answer... and I'm honored that you like my descriptions.

Ele: The city of Moire is the site of the next chapter. I hope I can expand on it more then. Just... don't kill me for not finishing the Ryven scenes first, ne?

Ishi: Hurrah, another long review! I love being given comments about what I can do better in the story. Chapter 5a has been edited, just for you ;).

Baughb: The wizard-elf likes it! Huzzah!

Dannee-san: I'm so glad you're coming back for more! Hope you enjoyed this installment, and I'll be trying to clarify the plot and history more as I go on.

TK: As you demand, oh Queen of Kats... more story for you to enjoy.

Meeeeeeee....!!!: Hah! I have my review! Grati! ::hug::

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Thank you all! And to everyone else, _review!_ A minute of your time to make the author ecstatically happy to know that someone's reading her work.

Until next time,

Ocianne

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	7. Interlude: Moire

Completed 1-21-04

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Chapter Seven: Interlude  
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-City of Moire: The small storage attic above _The Gryphon_-

Tarai awoke as the sun's first light filtered into the room, and immediately wished she hadn't. She buried her face into the pile of clean rags that she shared with Kayamé as both bed and pillow, and pulled her small blanket over her head. Unfortunately, it didn't help. From behind the thin wooden partition dividing their sleeping area from their Yin's bed, the raised voices of Kayamé and their mother invaded Tarai's sleep-fogged head like a sharp knife.

"Please, Momma!"

"Ye'll get no such extra from me, Kayamé."

Tarai raised her head slightly, then let it drop. It was the same every morning — Kayamé would ask Momma for extra money to buy their food with and invariably be refused. Then she would plead and beg all the ways she knew how, but still be unable to convince their mother how much they needed it. Instead, Momma would give Kayamé the same amount as always, and they would be forced to beg what they could on the streets to make up for their lack.

They were almost done, thankfully, and even better, today's had stayed relatively quiet. Occasionally their exchanges would turn into full-blown arguments, which was never a good thing. Kayamé had inherited Yin's explosive and short-fused temper and when her stubborn determination set their mother off, it was never pretty. Tarai hated to hear the two argue, because there was always the chance that Kayamé would push their mother too far. When that happened, the consequences usually came in the form of a blow to her sister's face or no money at all, and a night spent shivering in one of their Hides.

"Ye're both already disgraces, havin' to depend on me for money." Tarai poked her head out from under her blanket and propped herself up on her elbows. This was something new: before Yin had always given flat refusals, never any explanations.

"When ye're grown you'll find that there's never anyone who will support you." Yin said. "One way or another, no one stays," she added bitterly. "Your father promised by the Creator to stay and care for me forever, but his vow broke when he left, and that of Tarai's father when I lost him to death."

"Father?"

Tarai's eyes widened and she sat up all the way. Her father? Yin had never told them anything about their father before, though Kayame had often asked why it was only the three of them when it seemed everyone else had both father and mother. But why had Momma said "your" and "her"? That would mean...

Tarai crept across the dirty wood floor to peer around the partition which stretched from floor to ceiling across the middle of the room, ending only at the edge of the narrow stairwell leading to the ground floor. Standing on the top step, she tentatively poked her head the partition.

Kayamé stood with her back to Tarai in the small patch of clear floor between the partition on the right, Yin's bed in front of her, and a jumbled mess of storage space. Their mother sat on the bed, already in her work clothes and lacing up her boots as she argued with her daughter. Because Yin worked as a barmaid at _The Gryphon_, she had managed to rent the tiny attic situated above it to sleep amongst the stored cups, barrels and candles. Unfortunately, since the job paid poorly it left their mother with little money for anything else, which was why she was overly stingy with regards to her daughters' welfare.

"To expect support from a man is to be weak, and vulnerable," Yin went on, ignoring Kayamé's surprised exclamation. "I found that out the long, hard way. Learn to live without them, girl. Remember that ye are the only person ye can safely depend upon."

With a small sigh Tarai sat on the top step of the stairwell to the bar. It looked like Yin wasn't going to say any more about their father. Or, apparently, fathers. It made sense, certainly, though she had never really considered it before. Momma's angry and bitter responses to Kayamé's questions were almost understandable then, and she herself was so different from her sister that it could be logical for them to have different fathers.

_I wonder what mine was like._

Tuning out Kayamé as she tried another tactic to elicit money from their mother, Tarai listened to the sounds bouncing up the stairwell in an attempt to gauge how much longer they had before they would be kicked out onto the streets for the day. There was the clatter of a bucket and mop cleaning the floor, and the chairs clunking solidly against the floor as they were taken off the tables...

Suddenly, the barkeeper's roar at a hapless employee interposed itself over the other noises, causing Tarai to wince. The door at the stairwell's foot did little to muffle his shouting, and she had been on the receiving end of his gruff scorn too many times. He disapproved of his employees having family, especially children, since there was no telling when a barfight might render the dependents without a provider. Because they were unwelcome, she and Kayamé avoided both he and the bar as much as they possibly could.

"Yin!" The yell nearly deafened Tarai as it thundered up the stairwell. With a startled jump she ran and huddled behind Kayamé, watching as their mother stomped over to the stair and shouted down in reply. Though of rather short and somewhat petite build, Yin possessed a voice that rivaled the barkeep's own.

"What do ye want, ye mangy cutthroat?"

"Bar's opening, get down here and work!"

"Ah, do it ye own self!" Yin responded, but she quickly finished getting ready. As she pulled her coarse black hair out of her face and into a tight bun, her eyes alighted on her two daughters. With a somewhat annoyed grunt, she reached into an old, empty beer barrel standing by her bed and retrieved a small, locked box. Quickly unlocking it, she removed a few copper coins and dropped them in Kayamé's hand, then re-locked it and placed the key back in one of her pockets.

"I can't afford to give ye extra, so mind how ye spend that, girl. Though ye'll probably be irresponsible with it anyway. Makes me wonder why I give ye any at all."

"_Yin!_"

"I'm coming! Ye can wait another minute. Go out the back," Yin added in a quieter tone to Tarai and Kayamé, "as Master Percon will likely throw ye out the front entrance and dock my pay should he catch ye. And don't ye come back 'til after sunset, either." With that final admonition, she disappeared down the stairwell and the girls heard the door slam closed behind her.

After a moment, Kayamé retrieved a small cloth pouch on a string around her neck from where it had been hidden on her person. Carefully, she dropped the coins inside and knotted it closed, then tucked it away in her clothes. With the number of pickpockets, thieves, and gangs on the streets, anything visibly meant to carry money, however little, was sure to be emptied before they had the chance to spend it. They had gone hungry only once in this manner before Kayamé took the precaution of hiding the pouch beneath the baggy material of her short, slightly ragged and too-large dress.

"Come on, Ta," she said, taking Tarai's hand. "We've gotta go before anyone comes up here." Occasionally one of the kitchen staff would enter the attic, since the stairwell exited into their workplace and all of the surplus supplies were stored within the barrels of the attic. A few of the staff were either kindly or neutral in their behavior toward the girls, but most would not take kindly to finding them.

"Do we have enough money?" Tarai asked anxiously, tugging on her sister's hand. Kayamé avoided her concerned gaze.

"I think so. But we'll have to find something else that we can do. Momma's right — we have to take care of ourselves, 'cause no one else will." As Kayamé said this, Tarai noticed that the fire in her eyes was different. Usually they burned with frustration at their mother's decision, but now there was a strange acceptance there.

"Kay... do you really believe that?"

"Yes," Kayamé said seriously, "I do. Momma was telling the truth, and she's right. If we can't even depend on her for food, who else would ever take care of us?"

"But... but..." Tarai regarded her sister wide-eyed, unwilling to accept herself that everyone would be like Momma, but unable to say anything to refute Kayamé's logic. There was nothing that she could ever say to change her mind anyway. Once her sister's mind was set on something, it would take someone with a stronger will than hers to be able to change it. "Was Momma right about our fathers, too?"

Kayamé was silent for a moment. "I think she was," she said at last. "Momma didn't have a reason to lie and it seems to fit the way people act. Can you think of any time you've seen people stay together for very long?"

Tarai was silent. Momma was alone, Master Percon's wife was dead, the gangs on the streets constantly gained and lost members, and she had heard womenfolk gossiping about the Queen's fatal illness not two months ago. Not even the King, who ruled all of the Continent from the safety of his castle on the north side of the city, could escape the fate of being left behind.

"Come on," Kayamé said again. "We have to go."

Letting Kayamé lead, Tarai quietly crept down the stairwell behind her sister into the kitchen, and through the kitchen out the back entrance into one of Moire's many dirty alleyways. The cobblestones beneath her feet were chipped, cracked and dirty, like they were nearly everywhere else around the city. She scuffed her bare foot against one, trying to rub the dirt off to reveal the stone underneath as she waited for Kayamé to decide which direction to go. One end of the alley exited onto a street near one of the many gates spaced throughout Moire's stone walls, while the street on the opposite end lead toward the city's center.

"This way," Kayamé said, tugging on Tarai's hand in the direction of the heart of the city.

"What do we do, Kay?" Tarai whispered as they left the alley and began wandering down one of the city's larger avenues. People were already up and about their business despite the early hour: Noblemen in their litters traversed the streets with dignity, while mercenaries swaggered through the streets and soldiers and guards patrolled with eyes on the watch for trouble. In the distance, especially at the numerous city gates and in the market streets, beasts of burden, butcher animals, and steeds bred for travel raised a beastly ruckus in their assorted voices. Also filling the air were the cries of the street merchants proclaiming their wares to any passer-by willing to listen.

Kayamé sighed. "I'll think of something soon. We'll go looking, and see what we can find." She squeezed Tarai's hand comfortingly. "It'll be ok, Tarai. We'll be ok."

_I hope_, Kayamé added in the privacy of her own mind. _We can't go on like this much longer, and there's so little in the city that we can do..._

- - - - -

AN: All right... no resolution in Ryven yet, but a glimpse at Tarai and Kayamé again. The next chapter, however, should wrap the current events in Ryven, since I know I'm being incredibly evil to you all for doing this.

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Reviewer Thanks:

Kourui: I'm afraid that Saidi isn't Nephrite, no... Saidi's an OC who makes a few appearances in the plot as a character developer. Nephrite and Mamoru haven't made their first appearances yet, but there will be glimpses of them soon. Be warned, though, that because there have to be _some_ mysterious characters, you won't know much about them for a goodly while.

Ele: Liessa is trying to do what's best for her daughter, but her ideas about that and the way she does it isn't always likable. She'll be reappearing in later chapters, though, so you can decide for yourself then.

TK: Thanks for _all_ your comments, Kitty. And not killing me for the cliff-hanger.

Fire Lady: Ooh, a new reader. I'm so glad you like it, and hope you enjoy this update too.

Me Agayn: Well, a short review's better than nothing...Thankee! :)

Ara: Glad you like it! Reread the story and responses to reviews and it should make better sense. Erik is a Shitennou, but not Nephrite.

K. Wyse: A gift for action sequences? Really? Hurrah! ::huggles happily::  
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Thanks to my faithful reviewers, and my new readers too! See you next update, and please, review... Please?

Ocianne

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	8. The Day After

Completed 6-20-04

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Chapter Eight: The Day After  
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Dawn was breaking once more around the town of Ryven, but instead of the peaceful sunrise that had greeted Kain the day before, the dim light illuminated a much graver setting. Though the bandit attack began soon after dusk, much of the night had passed before they were driven away and peace returned. Now, however, the grim task of caring for the wounded and counting the dead remained.

Quietly standing beside his father on the stone steps before Ryven's meeting hall, Erik solemnly watched the greater portion of the town's inhabitants assemble in the Town Square. With the danger gone, his father had called a meeting to comfort those left behind. The large, solitary bronze bell in the meeting hall's tower tolled both the call to Assembly and a lament for the dead, its somber peals muted in the early morning fog.

It was almost fitting, Erik thought, that the fog hung unusually low and think today. Though only a visible mist at head-height, by the time it reached where the awnings protruded from the shops around the square it had condensed into a mostly opaque cloud which hid the rising sun. It was still dark enough that his father had ordered all the unbroken lamps on the corners made from streets emptying into the square relit, and lanterns on makeshift pole stands were scattered here and there on the flat cobblestones of the Square.

As the townspeople assembled, Erik searched anxiously for familiar faces. Anyone capable of travel was supposed to come, but it would be impossible to tell if the absentees were merely wounded, or if they were dead. Those capable and willing had begun a systematic search of the town, looking for the missing. The purpose of the meeting here was not to take a census of the living, but to give them hope.

Small knots of people gathered in the square. They seemed lost and alone in the unusually large amount of empty space between them; usually when a summoning occurred the square was packed from side to side.

In one part of the square Erik recognized the blacksmith, who often trained the boys in sword fighting when Kyr was guarding, but only his wife stood by his side. Their hulking mountain of a son was conspicuously absent, though whether the friendly, gentle young guardsman was searching, wounded or dead remained a mystery.

A small group of young guards stood together, talking in hushed voices; most sported wounds, and another just joining them walked with a limp. Were he not so thankful that all of his family was alive, Erik would have felt ashamed that his brother Saidi had been injured in a training fight and not during active duty. And since Pax, at 18, had not been accepted into the guards yet, none of his family had taken an active part in the town's defense. Erik shivered involuntarily, remembering that Saidi had been scheduled for guard duty last night, and could very well have been killed were he not recovering at home. Pushing the morbid train of though out of his mind, he turned to look up at his father instead.

Drion Serden's face was a jumble of emotions as he surveyed his people while they slowly, tiredly arrived at the meeting hall and sat or stood on the cold stone ground. Erik knew his father was torn between anger and sadness by the way he stood stiffly upright and yet had expression of anguished sympathy on his face. Anger, that despite all of their careful planning and hard work, the bandits had still done so much damage to the town; grief, that such a tragedy had befallen his fellow townsmen, because they were not only his responsibility but also his good friends.

Finally, it became evident that there would be no more coming and the gathering hushed expectantly, their weary, dirty and often still-bloody faces watching the mayor. Drion was the town's pillar of strength, their unchanging foundation - only through his simple eloquence could they be convinced that a better future would come someday. Eventually, the danger of the raids would be overcome and peace would be unthreatened. They would be able to raise their children and live without fear of night or losing loved ones unexpectedly.

Erik watched his father remind the townspeople of these promises, encouraging them with his words. Drion had always been a good speaker, and could manage to give hope even when it seemed as though there was none.

"In a week we will bury our beloved ones and comrades in arms," said Erik's father as his speech came to a close. "They will be missed and forever remembered, but now we must turn our gazes to the future. I will be working with the Council to coordinate the rebuilding. If you were lucky enough to escape the night without much damage, please help the searchers as they clear the town of debris and seek for those unaccounted for, or work with the _Curaen_ at the Healing House. To those of you with children, Liessa and I open our home now to watch and care for them as we rebuild, though any assistance you could provide in supervising them would be willingly accepted."

Murmurs of agreement and gratitude spread through the small crowd. As the gathering ended one of the townspeople, a middle-aged man, approached Erik's father. Erik recognized him as the temporary leader of the guards and organizer of the search parties.

"Sir, we've managed to find more bandit corpses and Blacksmith Dan'l's son, among others," the man reported, running a hand through his short brown hair. "He's gravely wounded. Some of my men are taking him to the healers, but..."

"Thank you, Derek," Drion interrupted, sighing resignedly. "Has anyone seen Kyr yet? I last saw him before this all began, and it's not like him to disappear."

"I'm afraid not, sir. Though I don't believe we've had the chance to search all the guard towers, and I couldn't say if we've reached his house yet. So many were wounded this time that there are too few to efficiently follow the grid..."

Erik didn't stay to hear the rest. Without a word he turned and sprinted in the direction of the Merin house.

Worry flooded Erik's mind as he ran through the streets toward his best friends' house. It was situated on the east side of town, and he knew that the searchers by habit searched the east quadrant last. As far back as Erik could remember Kyr had been with his family to defend them when a raid occurred, and since the east side faced a landscape of open fields it survived with the least damage. The other parts of town always ended up worse off, so Kyr would leave the east side for after the others. But if Kyr hadn't reported to his father immediately after the raid, it would only be if he were too hurt to move. And if that were so, there was no telling the state of his family, who were most likely still not accounted for...

Erik skidded to a halt in front of the house. The small garden of grass and flowers on either side of the steps leading to the front porch were somewhat trampled — it was strange how the most ridiculous thoughts passed through your mead when you were worried, but Renée was going to be furious when she learned that her precious plants had been harmed. Thankfully, however, the house was free of fire damage, unlike one of the houses across the street. A quarry to the south had provided an ample stone supply for most of Ryven's buildings to be made predominantly of brick and stone rather than wood. With the combination of fireproof material and large gaps between buildings, the town was constructed to be resilient to fire. Still, occasionally a torch flame would find fuel enough to do severe damage to a domicile.

Though the house was still in one piece, the low fog and still dim light conspired to give it a grim, foreboding appearance. Erik tried to open the front door, and to his immense relief found it barred. No bandits would have entered that way, and the windows were both small and set near the ceiling to deter entry in that manner as well. Rounding the house, Erik mounted the stone steps to the back porch and tested the door.

His heart sank as it swung open.

- - - - -

Dyani stifled a yawn behind her hand as she perched on a tall stool, holding a half-full wooden goblet between her legs. Even being surrounded by several dozen wounded men and women failed to have any effect on her desire to fall asleep. Her small size and young age had disqualified her from helping the _Curaen_, healers, in the rear wings, so she had spend the aftermath of the attacks as the gopher for _Curae_ Suna, the healer tending to the non-fatally wounded. It had been a long night.

"Dyani."

She straightened, forcing herself awake to focus on the woman addressing her.

"Yes, _Curae_?"

Suna continued to concentrate on the arrow wound she was cleaning, deftly manipulating the skin with a few instruments from the collection resting on a cloth in her lap. Dyani couldn't help but admire the quiet competence the healer possessed. She looked no more than a score of years older than Dyani, but she carried an air of timeless wisdom about her.

"Take the herbs and make the base for the _sopora_ tonic. You remember how, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Off you go, then."

Dyani hopped off the stool and placed the goblet on the floor next to the healer's herb belt, a long strip of cloth with numerous tiny pouches attached to it. Picking the belt up, she hurried to the preparation room that she had been in and out of the entire night. She ignored the cabinets, counters, and water basins, focusing instead on the small, enclosed fire in the corner of the room, away from everything else. Although it burned bright and hot and the kettle she placed above it quickly came to a boil, in her impatience it seemed to take an age.

Pouring the hot water into another large goblet, Dyani opened the drawstrings of three pouches on the _Curae's _herb belt and sprinkled a pinch of their contents into the cup. She returned to the bedside as quickly as she dared without risking spilling the nearly full cup as she went. Upon her arrival Suna took both tonic and herbs from her and as Dyani watched the healer finished preparing the drink, a process Suna had said was too complicated for Dyani to manage. Something about concentrations and lengths of time, but Dyani was too tired to remember properly.

After letting the tonic set for a moment, apparently to increase its effectiveness, the healer offered the tonic to the wounded guardsman. "The first drink numbed your senses; now let this one bear you to sleep."

The guard took it warily, but at least did not outright refuse it from fear of poison in the strange herb drink as he had for the numbing drink. Suna was the Healing House's expert in herb-lore, the only healer capable of creating the strange but useful tonics like the numbing and sleeping potions Dyani had watched her use all night. However, most of the town regarded her art with unease and tacitly avoided her because of it. She didn't seem to mind though, Dyani had realized from watching her patient persistence with her charges. Suna lived in a world of her own, filled with herbs and books — Dyani had seen her room when the healer took her along to retrieve a pouch to add to her belt — a gracious, dignified lady with no time to dwell on what other people thought of her.

Dyani's train of thought was interrupted abruptly by a commotion in the arrival hall of the House. Shouts, cries and general bustle shattered the silence, not muffled in the lease by the preparation rooms and short hallway separating the arrival hall from the recovery room.

Suna quickly reclaimed her cup from the guardsman, who had luckily swallowed before the outburst of noise began and escaped choking on the tonic in surprise. Glancing at Dyani, the _Curae_ gave her a permissive nod in response to the girl's unspoken request.

"Go on. I'll be there in a moment."

Dyani raced to the hall, curiosity and a hint of fear speeding her steps. A commotion in the Healing House was never a good thing. The healers were quick, competent, and largely intolerant to noise as they worked. Unfortunately for her, she was too short to see over the small crowd at the entrance and didn't dare get in anyone's way. Instead she hopped from one foot to the other impatiently, waiting for something to happen.

A few moment of eternity later, the healers parted to give way to a stretcher borne by four guardsmen, with the highest authority healers available already at work to stem the profuse bleeding of the injured man. As the bearers turned to take the litter into the back part of the House, a space opened and Dyani could see him plainly -

And felt a part of her world come tumbling down.

As she stood there, stunned, she barely felt Suna kneel and wrap her arms around her, pulling her onto the healer's lap in a comforting embrace.

"He'll be ok, won't he, Suna? The _Curaen_ can make him better, can't they?" Her voice was full of quiet desperation, her still young mind unable to accept what she had seen.

"Dyani..."

"He _has_ to be!" Dyani cried, her green eyes blurring from tears. She stared at the closed door the healers had disappeared behind, seeing again and again the dirty, sweat-stained face of Kyr go by.

"He has to be..."

- - - - -

An oppressive silence greeted Erik as he stepped through the back door into the hallway. He halted just inside, leaning against the closed door in an attempt to remain upright. The scene in front of him was enough to make him feel ill.

Jaeden huddled in the left side of the hallway intersection, hugging his knees and rocking back and forth slightly. A low whimper, barely audible even in the house's quiet stillness, escaped his lips as Erik stared at him. His blue eyes, usually sparkling with humor, gazed blankly in Erik's direction, unfocused and expressionless.

Kneeling on the floor to the right of Jaeden, Kain also failed to acknowledge Erik's entrance. However, rather than staring at a point beyond Erik, Kain's eyes were fixed on the two bodies lying on the floor — very still, and very dead. One, a bandit, rested face down on top of the other. Erik's stomach knotted as he recognized the other still form as Renée. The majority of her clothes, long blonde hair, and the surrounding wood floor was stained an unmistakable dark red. Her eyes, still open, gazed at Erik with the same lifeless blue stare Jaeden presently possessed.

Carefully avoiding the bodies, Erik approached his friends. Jaeden remained trapped in a state of shock, but when Erik crouched in the tiny space between the boys and the two bodies, Kain raised his eyes to meet Erik's concerned gaze. To his dismay, Erik found himself staring into two ray-green orbs of frozen calm.

"I killed him," Kain said in a voice far too emotionless for Erik's comfort. "He killed her, and now he's dead."

Erik was silent. Nowhere in his memory could he recall a raid with so many dead and wounded, or one where someone close to him had died. Unable to think of anything to say or do, he simply continued to sit and watch his friend. A part of his mind that felt very far away told him that he was suffering from shock as well.

"I wasn't sure if I could do it, before tonight," Kain went on in his faraway voice, looking around Erik at the bandit corpse. He seemed to have taken Erik's silence as an appeal to continue. "I didn't think I could kill someone. Then he murdered mother. And I knew I could."

Erik shivered at the cold manner Kain had adopted. Kain had always been the easy-going older brother for the other three of their group. To see him like this...

The back door opened again and Erik turned to see who had entered, gratified that Kain also showed interest. At least, until Erik noticed the expression on the new arrival'sface. Theyoung boy'seyes darted between Kain, Erik, Jaeden and the two bodies in a slightly panicked manner. Erik recognized him after a moment as a runner for the Healing House.

"What do you want?" Kain inquired frostily, his eyes narrowing at the intruder.

"I, er, was sent from, um, the Healing House," the freckled youth began, shifting uncomfortably under Kain's unwelcome attention. He seemed unsure as to wether he should relay his message, thentook a deep breath andplunged onward. "They send word of Master Kyr. He is - he has left us."

Jaeden froze instantly, his arms tightening visibly around his knees, but gave no other reaction. Erik felt a sudden urge to throttle the boy, but couldn't bring himself to move. The boy probably didn't realize the consequences of what he had done, anyway. And it was too late to stop the news. Kain stiffened, then spoke.

"Thank you," he responded hollowly, lowering his eyes. "You don't need to stay."

The messenger disappeared out the door, leaving the three boys alone again. Avoiding Kain's face, Erik realized that most of the blood smeared on Kain's arm wasn't the bandit's, but oozed from a gash there.

"You're hurt!"

Kain barely glanced at it. "He was quick, even taken by surprise. It doesn't hurt. Don't worry about it."

"Will you be all right?" Erik asked apprehensively.

Kain looked at Erik again, and the younger boy winced involuntarily in reaction to the pain he saw in Kain's eyes. After a few moments it seemed to recede, until Erik realized that instead of fading it was merely becoming hidden again behind a wall of grey ice.

"No, I won't be," Kain said candidly. Erik knew him well enough to hear in his friend's statement the answer to the other meaning in his question. "But that won't stop me. Jaeden still needs looking after, and mom — mom and dad will kill me if I didn't take care of him."

Slowly, Kain got to his feet. Turning to Jaeden, he pulled him upright as well. Jaeden clung to Kain's arm, but Erik noticed that the blonde boy responded favorably to his older brother's touch, finally focusing on the real world once more.

"What's going to happen now?" Jaeden whispered. Erik watched Kain straighten, pushing away his own feelings to be the support Jaeden so desperately needed at the moment. _Just don't make a habit of doing that, Kain. Please?_

"We're going to see Erik's fath - Mayor Drion, Jae."

Erik took Jaeden's free hand, sincerely hoping that his best friends would manage to return to at least close to normal again soon. "Seeing him is a good idea. He'll be glad to know that you're both all right." _And hopefully getting away from the house and the bodies will help all of us._ He still felt nauseated.

- - - - -

Dyani huddled in Suna's lap as they sat in one of the large chairs in the Serden's front room. After taking Dyani home, Suna had decided to stay with the still crying girl until someone else was available to keep her company. Dyani had talked a great deal at first, babbling somewhat in an attempt to keep her mind off what she had seen, but now she sniffed a little, burrowing further into Suna's embrace. The long night and sight of Kyr had taken its toll on her, and she slowly succumbed to a troubled slumber. Suna watched her with tender, motherly expression, but her thoughts as she watched Dyani sleep were her own.

Some time later the front door opened and Erik, Kain and Jaeden entered. Since Drion was with the town elders in the meeting hall and Liessa was off attempting to keep track of a mob of children, Suna was the only person present to see the boys arrive. Not noticing her, Erik took a deep breath, but Suna spoke first.

"Master Drion isn't here, Erik," she said mildly. "Do not wake your sister calling for him."

Erik gawked at the dark-haired healer. He had heard people gossiping that one of the _Curaen_ tended to anticipate peoples action or intention, but had never experienced it himself. It was enough to had a few extra moments until he processed the second half of her statement.

"Dyani!" Dragging Jaeden and Kain behind him, Erik hurried to the girls' chair. "Is something wrong? I thought mother sent her help in the Healing House."

"She'll be fine," Suna assured him. "She merely needs sleep." The healer eyed the three boys. "And from the looks of it, you could all use it as well." Suna rose, carrying the sleeping form of Dyani. "Come. Liessa is busy with everyone else's children, so I may as well care for hers."

Erik began protesting that they needed to tell his father about Renée and Kain and Jaeden, but she silenced him with a finger on his lips. "Your friends are exhausted and hurting, Erik. They will be better after resting." Transferring her gaze to Kain, she continued. "Your arm must be cleaned before it becomes infected. I know that you desire to depend on only yourself, now, but try to accept the help that others offer you," she added quietly.

Erik couldn't see Suna's eyes as she and Kain gazed at each other, but after a few moments they seemed to reach a silent understanding and Kain nodded. Suna led the boys to Erik's room; Erik idly wondered if she had been to the house before, given how well she knew her way around. Laying Dyani on Erik's bed, Suna instructed the boys to change out of their grimy, day-old clothes. Erik then stretched out next to Dyani and the healer shooed Jaeden to the other bed — Pax had joined the searches and thankfully hadn't returned yet, leaving his bed empty.

Sitting Kain down on the free half of Pax's bed, Suna disappeared out the door for a moment before returning with a cloth, a basin of water, a needle, and thread. Kain watched stoically as she examined and cleaned his arm, not even flinching when her fingers ran over the broken skin or when she sewed it together with a line of tiny stitches.

"You're lucky," she announced when finished. "It isn't infected, which would have brought a whole host of problems down on you, even though it may end up scarring."

"Lucky," Kain spat bitterly, staring at his arm.

"Yes, lucky," Suna stated firmly, placing a hand beneath his chin and forcing him to look at her. "You and your brother are still alive, because you protected him, and neither of you were badly hurt. I came here from the Healing House. If you feel that you aren't lucky, visit me there and you'll think again." She paused, then gave him a bittersweet smile. "Get some rest," she ordered gently. "I'll speak to Mayor Drion for you."

With a mumbled thank you, Kain lay down on the bed beside his brother and closed his eyes. The adrenaline rush and tension that had sustained him overnight faded quickly, and sleep claimed him.

Suna watched the four children for a few moments, then shook her head. With a sigh of regret, she closed the door to the room behind her and left the house. The sun had risen fully now, chasing away the mist and shining warmly from it's place in the sky. The town was extremely quiet, with the townspeople going about their business in a subdued manner. Most were working under the direction of the town council, systematically clearing rubble and searching for people in the areas that had been raided.

Suna sighed again. So much had been lost that could never be regained... and so much was yet to come.

Arriving at the meeting hall, Suna entered just in time to hear the school headmaster, one of the members of the town Council, say: "Kyr was the best man we ever had; who will head the guards in his place, Drion?"

Drion massaged his temples wearily. "I am inclined to change Derek's position from temporary to permanent leader. He posses both the skills and willingness to perform the duties it requires. Have any of you objections?"

After a chorus of approving responses, Drion adjourned the council to oversee separate aspects of the town's reconstruction. Seizing the opportunity to speak with the mayor, Suna approached him and cleared her throat. Transferring his attention from the papers on the table in front of him to her, the mayor's haggard face lit up in surprised pleasure as he recognized her face.

"Suna, my dear. Have you any wisdom to offer a childhood friend in this time of trial, or do you come on some other errand?"

"I just came from your house, Drion, where I left your two youngest and the sons of Kyr asleep."

Drion exhaled sharply in relief. "They are well, then?"

"They were mostly untouched, physically, but Kyr's sons especially suffer from shock. Apparently, without Kyr's protection his wife did not survive the raid."

Covering his eyes with his hand, Drion bowed his head. "Both of them, in one night?"

"Yes."

"Kyr, Kyr!" The mayor exclaimed quietly. "What a time to leave me, friend, when you are needed most. For such a thing to happen to ones so young... but I will watch over them, Kyr, just as I promised." He looked up. "Do you have nothing else to tell me before I go home to an exhausted wife, an injured son, and four traumatized children of varying degrees? No encouragement, or perhaps a kernel of insight?"

"Only that the world _will_ become brighter during your lifetime, Master Drion." She paused, thinking. "And that to deny your daughter the ability to defend herself in the future may do more harm than good." He eyed her dubiously, but Drion had learned to trust Suna's predictions over the years. He couldn't remember the last time she had been wrong. "Regardless of the repercussions on the farther future, however, it would help her be less affected by the last night, at least. She desires to learn, friend. Consider it."

Drion nodded thoughtfully, contemplating. "Perhaps... if I can spare anyone to train those of Dyani's age, it would be a good distraction for her and those like her."

"I have said my part, then. Should you desire company sometime, however, you know where to find me." She gave him a small smile, then left for the Healing House. There were probably more wounded waiting to be attended to by now.

Drion remained in the town hall for a little while longer, pondering, then went home in search of Liessa. He had a bit of spare time, enough to speak with her about what Suna had said and possibly to look in on the children.

- - - - -

By the time Dyani woke again, it was dusk. Sleepily opening her eyes, she found herself staring up at the dirty and tired, but triumphant face of Pax.

"Hey there, little sister," he said with a grin.

"Pax!" She exclaimed, jumping up and hugging his lanky frame. Even standing on the raised bed, she was barely tall enough to throw her arms around his neck. "When did you get back?"

"Just now, when my shift ended. I've been busy all night, getting work done with the men, and what should I find upon my return but two occupied beds!"

Dyani smiled at him and his lighthearted teasing, then followed his gaze to the other bed. At the sight of Kain and Jaeden asleep there she remembered the night before with sickening clarity. Immediately losing all of her good mood, she sank back down on the bed.

"Pax, Kain and Jaeden.... did you hear what happened to Kyr?" When he shook his head, she blurted out what happened at the Healing House in as short a description as she could. As he listened, Pax's face became gravely serious..

"Di… A bandit killed Renée last night. One of the search teams found her at the Merin's."

Dyani simply stared at her brother. After a moment he swept her off the bed into his arms, and she buried her face in his shoulder as he quietly carried her out of the room. Kyr and Jaeden slept on, unaware of the conscious world in their exhaustion.

Entering the front room, Dyani and Pax found Liessa sitting in one of the chairs with Erik on the wood floor by her feet, talking with Drion. Normally Erik would have chosen a place on the couch beside Drion, but the sight of Renée had made him more attached to his mother for the time being.

"Mama, Papa!" Wriggling out of Pax's arms, Dyani rushed to hug her mother and then her father, settling in his lap with a relieved sigh. There was something comfortingly solid about Drion, and she wanted to feel that. Pax waved a greeting to all three family members and then returned up the stairs, announcing his intention to sleep for a week even if he had to steal Erik's bed for the duration.

"Bah!" Erik called after his brother, too tired to come up with a better response.

After Pax left, there was a short silence before Drion took a deep breath. "Dyani, your mother and I have been talking, and in light of recent events... we've have decided to give you our permission to learn staff fighting."

"But only providing you spend as much time with me," Liessa continued, "learning to be a proper lady as well."

"Really?" Dyani's eyes shone with excitement. "I promise!" To not only have mama's permission to fight, but to be taught by someone who really knew how... that was worth anything. And working in the kitched yesterday hadn't been to bad, either...

"Good," Drion said in satisfaction, "With that settled, we have the guards reorganized, the wounded found and being tended to, the homeless situated, and the matter of younger children training dealt with. Most of the rubble is currently being shifted to prepare for rebuilding, which should begin in the next few days." He sighed. "I think I might dare to sleep now, before something else happens to require my attention."

He spoke too soon, however, because a moment later Kain trudged down the stairs, hesitating slightly when he reached the bottom.

"Come sit down, Kain," Liessa offered. He did so, settling cross-legged on the floor next to Erik and staring down resolutely at the grain of the wooden slats.

"Jaeden's still asleep. He probably won't wake up until tomorrow."

Dyani slipped off her father's lap and knelt beside Kain, hugging him sideways. Drion leaned forward, pressing his fingertips together as he tended to do when he was ill at ease.

"Kain," he began slowly, "Although Liessa and I don't wish to force anything on you, as your godparents we would like for you and Jaeden to stay with us until you have finished your schooling and are old enough to take care of both yourself and him."

"I thank you for you concern, sir," Kain responded in a subdued voice, "but —"

Dyani tugged at his shirt, breaking off his train of thought. Fixing her big green eyes on him, she begged entreatingly: "Won't you stay? I don't want you to be there all by yourself... and you're a nicer big brother than Erik."

She momentarily stuck her tongue out at her brother, then turned back to Kain, using all the influence her pleading face put at her disposal as the Excessively Cute Youngest Child of the Family™. For a short while she seemed to be failing, but then Kain said, "Heh. I guess... I guess we could do it for a while. But sir," he added, addressing Drion, "I insist that no one else be allowed to live in our house. Let it wait until you believe me ready to live on m own."

"Of course," Dyani's father answered readily, sounding relieved at Kain's acquiescence. "Kyr often told me his intention to leave everything to his sons when he passed on. I intend to honor my good friend's wishes."

"Thank you, sir."

Liessa rose to her feet. "Well, you can tell your brother all of this later. As for you, young man, it's high time you had something to eat. Dyani, Erik, you come too." She began to herd the children off toward the kitchen, talking as they went. "After some supper you should all try to sleep again. Everyone will have something to do tomorrow as we truly begin rebuilding, so you'll need your rest. Tonight, Erik can sleep on Dyani's floor and Kain on Erik and Pax's floor, since Jaeden ought to just stay where he is. Erik, don't forget to get blankets from the hall closet for the two of you after supper..."

Her voice faded as they entered the kitchen. Drion glanced around guardedly for a few minutes, but when nothing else jumped out at him demanding attention, he relaxed. Stretching out across the couch, he placed his hands behind his head and began to doze.

- - - - -

AN: Not much to say, except that I hope to have chapters be this length or longer in the future. Be patient with me as _The Fae_ slowly evolves and comes into it's own. Chapter 9 is already being written and will be out as soon as possible. Hope you enjoyed chapter 8, and aren't bitter about how events played out… ::hides again::.

- - - - -

Reviewer Thanks:

Fire Lady: I'm afraid I took rather longer than you hoped, but you'll forgive me, right? :) As for the Senshi and Shitennou meetings... half of why I'm writing this is to develop characters who can exist independent of their significant others. So to the romance starved... it's a long time coming.

moonrabbit: Many thanks, and hopefully this offering has satiated you for a while.

Niamh is useless: Ah, yes... epic. Probably the most accurate single word to describe any of my stories. I'll keep in mind the interspersal of more staccato writing, however. Thanks for the suggestion, and also the comment about the bugs. Given the place and climate, bugs seems most appropriate, but it's helpful to remember that some places don't have them.

Secrets: I'm glad you like the names; I work hard to keep my names unique. (I'm actually obsessed with names in general, but that's another story...) Name conversions have been added to the first chapter now, to help people keep everyone straight.

Yui4: If you're looking for plot, at the moment it's nothing but foreshadowing and hints for the most part. This is a character driven story, not a plot driven one, so major earth-shaking events won't be coming for a while. I hope you enjoy the tapestry of subplots occurring at the moment, though.

Thallein: Meeting between the couples will occur rather later in the story, because as I mentioned above I want the characters to be able to live without their "one true love" being the center of their existence. It will come eventually though. And in case you couldn't tell from the past two chapters, I have a tendency to torture my poor characters. Pity them. ::grin::

Katpetal: Apologies for such a long cliffie, but hopefully this chapter will make up for it.

Amnicity: Erik never has been, is, or will be Neph. ::shudders::. Neph has yet to make an appearance. I love Mina's character too... she's got quite a life coming to her. And yes, it will all eventually come together. Eventually.

- - - - -

Props to you all for putting up with me! See you next update.

Ocianne

- - - - -


	9. Waking Dreams

– – – – –

_Chapter 9: Waking Dreams_

– – – – –

_T.M. 114_

–

To the east of Ryven, further inland and deeper in the human inhabited lands, the sun rose to shine on the city of Moire. The three sets of city gates opened to travelers at first light, and the city burst into the noisy bustle of daily business.

Kayame stomped down the back stairs of the Gryphon, muttering incoherently and not caring for once if anyone heard her. Tarai hurried after her sister, looking around nervously for anyone who might appear due to Kayame's noise. Upon reaching the alleyway, the older girl waited only long enough for Tarai to arrive, then took her hand and strode into the heart of the city.

"No money at all," she ranted as they went. "Not one aed." Tarai silently nodded, her usual response when Kayame paused during a tirade. They ended faster when uninterrupted. "And with our luck, we're going to run-in with one of the clans." Kayame tossed her head angrily, her dark eyes flashing. "Just let them get in my way..."

"Kay, don't think about it," Tarai pleaded. "They're too much bigger than you. Besides, we need to find some firstmeal."

Sighing, Kayame fell silent, but Tarai knew from the stiff way her sister walked that she was still furious. Not wanting to provoke her, the short-haired girl silently followed her sister, trying to think of something for them to do.

Kayamé watched the city's denizens carefully as she and Tarai passed them in their wanderings through the streets. City guards rarely paid attention to them since they never did anything, but if one was in a foul mood then street urchins made for the easiest targets to vent anger on. Farmers, merchants and guildsmen weren't a problem, provided the girls stayed out of their way. Visiting nobles (scum of the earth was more like it, in Kayamé's book) with business at the castle were the most troublesome, with their arrogant attitudes and escorts; the best thing to do when a nobleman's train approached on its way to the north part of the city was to duck into an alley until it left.

Such was the visible, honest populous of the city—sometimes problematic, but Kayamé could live with them. It was the disreputable citizens she kept an eye out for, the inhabitants of the second, hidden city that lived in the shadows decent people avoided: pickpockets, gangs, bounty-hunters and their prey, and anyone with an eye out for free labor or pretty faces. These co-inhabitants of her world made for a rather long list, and she had taken to mentally classifying everyone she saw into the categories of Benign, Suspicious, and Dangerous. As of yet, no one had defied her filing system.

She continued labeling the people around her as she and Tarai turned onto a small market street. It was quieter there, with fewer people and a more relaxed atmosphere. Rather than shout their wares in the crude manner of most merchants, these tradesmen simply waited for their customers to arrive, confident in the demand for their wares.

Looking around, Kayamé's paused in her mental note to avoid one of the men browsing too casually farther up the street when a particularly tiny stall caught her attention. Though she had traveled the street a hundred times before, she couldn't remember ever seeing it occupied. Situated in front of an average sized residence for the middle-to-poor-class part of town, the stall covered the left part of the house's face. A table rested directly in front of the cloth awning; on its surface a small display held all kinds of intricate glass jewelry, the delicate creations glinting in the sunlight.

Behind the table, half in and half out of the awning's shadow, sat a smiling, wrinkled vhenta — the undercity term for an old man. The expression on his face gave Kayamé the impression that he had all the time in the world, and not a care to bother him. She peered at him, unsure of whether or not to trust his looks and think of him as Benign. He certainly appeared harmless, with his mop of messy white hair, bushy eyebrows, and old but well-worn clothes. There was nothing about him that Kayamé could find herself second-guessing.

Curious, she approached the stall. There was something… different about both shop and owner, something that she wanted to see more of. The old man glanced up as the girls neared the table, and his face lit up with pleasure.

"Good morrow, young ladies. Might I be of assistance? A necklace, perhaps, or a bracelet? Hand made by the lady and I."

Tarai smiled shyly at him but didn't reply, choosing instead to stand on tiptoe and examine the man's wares. Kayamé wasn't surprised, since Tarai rarely said anything to anyone, preferring to let her sister deal with human contact. Which she should probably do, she remembered, and turned to address the man.

"They're very pretty. How do you make them?"

"Ah, but that's a secret!" His eyes shone with good humor, laughing at some private joke Kayamé didn't understand. "The two of us can't let how it's done be known, else we wouldn't afford firstmeal!" He chuckled for a moment, then stopped when Tarai stomach growled loudly, his thick eyebrows drawing together in concern. "Have you ladies eaten yet?"

Knowing that she couldn't get away with a lie after Tarai's stomach-rumble, Kayamé reluctantly shook her head. "Not today."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" He rose and picked up the display with what Kayamé thought was surprising ease given his age and short, slender frame beneath his clothes. "Would you join us for firstmeal? It should be ready soon."

The girls stared at him with nearly identical expressions of surprise and disbelief. No one had ever offered them something without an expectation of something in return. Nor had Kayamé ever heard an offer made with such obvious kindness or concern.

She hesitated, eyeing him doubtfully, but Tarai tugged on her hand. "I know it should feel like we're going to get holked, Kay," Tarai whispered in her ear. "But... I can't see _anything_ in him but Benign."

At Tarai's assurance Kayamé relented. Tarai relied on intuition at least as much as observation, but she had never been wrong before about a person Kayamé couldn't classify satisfactorily. Kayamé privately held the opinion that Tarai was smarter than she was, if the girl would only be willing to speak her mind more. If Tarai thought him trustworthy, there was no reason not to believe her.

The old man left the booth, ushering the girls inside the house. Kayamé forced herself to relax as the entered the small front room. Still, she couldn't help but examine her surroundings out of habit. The scuffed wood floor attested to many visitors over years since the house had been built, and a darker, polished wood covered the walls. To her left she saw a closed door; to the right were two coat hooks in the wall and a staff standing in the corner.

The old man set the jewelry display on the floor beside the staff, directly beneath a window to the right of the door. "Two guests for firstmeal, Emmaline!"

A counter blocked most of Kayamé's view of the room beyond, but she still heard the clear, ringing laughter that came from there in response. A moment later an old woman appeared in the gap between the counter and wall, beaming. Everything about her, from her brown eyes, white hair and dimpled cheeks to her short, plump figure and pale yellow dress made Kayamé think of the kindly mother she sometimes wished she and Tarai had.

"Come in, darlings, it's almost ready."

She beckoned all three into the room, sat them down at the small, square wooden table near the far wall, and bustled back to her cooking. Tarai was facing Kayamé, with her back to the kitchen, but she had twisted in her seat to goggle at the wall of bookshelves to her right. Tarai had always envied the literate, but had never imagined that people owned more than a few books, let alone a half-wall of full shelves.

However, even books lost their allure when Emmaline placed a bowl of steaming hot cereal at all four places. The girls stared at each other across the table for a moment, then followed their hosts' example and ate heartily. Kayamé looked around as she ate, trying to use distraction to keep from gorging. To her right, beyond the edge of the kitchen and dining area, she saw a small work area where the glass jewelry had to be made. A set of shelves displayed an array of small statues and figurines, all made from clear or colored glass.

"Do you like them?" At the old man's question, she realized she had been staring. However, his tone dispelled any fears she had of his displeasure at her interest, and she didn't hesitate to meet his gaze.

"They're very nice, vhenta. Did you make them all?"

The man didn't even react to the term — whether he understood it or not, Kayamé couldn't tell. "Call me Ghenn, young one. Yes, those are my work — my usual business, in fact. The jewelry is more a hobby." He smiled at her, a genuine smile rather than the usual revealing of teeth or lip-tightening Kayamé was accustomed to seeing. She smiled back, but her unanswered questions still remained.

"Ghenn, then." She took another bite of food, savoring the taste as she arranged her thoughts. "Why did you invite us in? Do you usually have strangers eat firstmeal with you?"

The couple exchanged glances and Ghenn chuckled lightly. "No, child, but we do not ignore the needs of others."

"But why help us?" Kayamé persisted. "What do you want from us?"

"While I wish I could say this kindness comes entirely from generosity," Ghenn replied, leaning back in his chair, "I do have a request to make of you." Kayamé bristled, but he raised his hand in a placating gesture. "Please, do not be offended. Perhaps a better term would be business proposition."

"What?"

"My work is highly prized and sought after, you see. But I cannot do two things at once, and would like the help of you and your — sister's, I believe — help."

"Doing what?" Kayamé demanded.

"I've been looking for someone to sell my jewelry for me for some time now, unsuccessfully. You ladies would take my place outside, allowing me to focus on my craft."

"Ghenn," Emmaline interjected, then continued in a language Kayamé had never heard before. The smooth, melodious rhythm of the words sounded foreign but beautiful, and Tarai also seemed fascinated by the strange language. Ghenn listened attentively to his wife's question, then nodded.

"Yes, I am certain." He returned his attention to Kayamé and continued: "In return for this service, Emmaline and I will care for and educate you."

"To read? To write?" Tarai cried, her eyes shining with excitement She blushed and ducked her head when the others glanced at her in surprise, since she hadn't spoken in the couple's presence before and Kayamé hadn't expected her to for a while yet.

Ghenn chuckled at her reaction. "Yes, little one. That and more."

Kayamé hesitated, unbelieving that such an opportunity would ever occur. She had lost her faith in kindness some time ago. "Why are you doing this?"

"It is… difficult to explain," he said after a short pause. "Perhaps at a later time it might be easier, but I must ask for your trust until then. When Kayamé still eyed him doubtfully, he added, "I promise, with the Creator as my witness, that we wish only to help you."

Kayamé's eyes widened. To call on the Creator as witness was the greatest oath a man could make on the continent. There were even stories of oath breakers meeting death under suspicious circumstances, though she was skeptical of such things. Regardless, for Ghenn to say what he had lowered her reasons to distrust him exponentially. Looking into his kind brown eyes, Kayamé could find only complete sincerity.

"I'll keep you to that, old ones, and the Creator kill you if you break it, but—" her eyes darted to Tarai, who nodded her agreement — "we accept your offer, for now."

"Wonderful!" Emmaline declared. "What are you names, darlings, and how old are you?"

"I'm Kayamé, and this Tarai. I think I'm nine, and that Tarai's two years younger."

There was a short silence, and then: "Now what, vhe—Ghenn?"

"Oh, you may call me Vhenta if you wish, Kayamé. I believe its meaning is close to "elder one", and I'm certainly that."

"Close," Kayamé acceded. "You know the street talk?"

"A small amount, overheard throughout this long life. Emmaline, my piece for _Cont_ Nemesii still needs work. You know what you are doing today?"

"Yes, of course. Well, you may call me whatever you like," Emmaline continued. "As for what we do now, the first thing is to finish firstmeal. Then we girls will leave Ghenn to his work, and you can learn how to sell his jewelry by watching me. Most customers come this time of day, before it gets too hot. After that, we'll have to see. Where will the joy of life come from if everything is known in advance?"

The two girls smiled at her bright, cheerful sincerity, and finished firstmeal with their newly acquired patrons.

After the meal, they followed Emmaline and spent the morning learning the shopkeeper's trade. She showed them the current inventory, how to interpret the tags bearing their individual price markings, and how to properly address a customer. The first few customers they watched in silence, but by mid-morning she encouraged them to participate in the sales.

Kayamé learned that she had an eye for finding a piece that the customer thought worth buying, and after a customer tried to claim that Emmaline short-changed him, they discovered that Tarai had an uncanny knack for numbers in her head. It was a good thing, too, because Kayamé had never had enough money to spend to learn more than simple money exchanges. Emmaline had been delighted; apparently numbers was one of the things she planned to teach them.

Of course, Tarai shrank from the conflict of the man's bitter denials and accusations of lying, but Kayamé let took up the slack with a will. To call Tarai a liar was tantamount to a crime: sometimes truth was all you had on the streets, even if to survive you sometimes ommited infromation or let people form their own conclusions from what truth you gae. Tarai would never speak a flat-out, contradictory lie. With this in mind, though unsaid, Kayamé defended her sister through a wave of cold fury, small fists clenched and words appropriately scathing. She had interacted with adults all her short life, and was unafraid of verbally attacking a man who had lost any respect she might have briefly entertained.

After the indignant customer left with his purchase, Tarai shyly returned to the subject of numbers. Kayamé declined to become involved in the conversation, preferring instead to watch the jewelry. She let Tarai follow Emmaline's lead at her own pace, progressing through a discussion of increasingly complicated mathematics. For a few minutes Kayamé half-listened out of habit, but quickly realised that she could not so easily follow those paths. It confirmed many of Kayamé's long-held suspicions that her sister had a naturally high intelligence, but neither the confidence nor opportunity to show it. On one hand she was glad to see Tarai truly enthusiastic about something, but on the other she couldn't fully squash a small thread of jealousy. She had longed so badly to leave the world of the streets and power and fear, protecting Tarai as best she could in the meanwhile — and her Tarai was, already seeming to have surpassed her on that road. Besides, she was the older one, the "experienced" one; it was a little embarrassing to see her little sister, two years younger than herself, be so much better at anything.

And not only that, but she was being taught by a woman they barely knew. The thought wouldn't be ignored — two old people for all intents and purposes rescuing her and her sister from and endless cycle of hunger, cold, and bitterness, for reasons undisclosed. For a girl who both hated and suspected withheld information, the position was aggravating. Still, she trusted Tarai — and Tarai trusted Emmaline.

"Pardon, madam shopkeeper," a man addressed Emmaline, jolting Kayamé back to reality, "but do you have any earrings at this time?"

Emmaline glanced at Kayamé and giving her an encouraging nod, and she took a deep breath. At least she could still sell the wares herself; Tarai had emphatically declined to try, and Kayamé was glad to know she still held a role of her own. She wasn't bad at it, eithher; Emmaline rarely had to intervene.

"Good day, sir," she greeted him, grateful that she sat on a stool Emmaline had brought outside for that purpose. It was bad enough to ask for a shopkeeper's dignity among customers at least two or three times her age, without the table reaching to her chin. "We have several styles of earrings right now, if you care to look here."

She gestured to the proper section of the display, and the intricate dance of negotiation began. She held up the pairs one at a time, choosing her next one by his reaction to the current set. Soon enough he settled on a set of two small half-spheres, colored pale blue by some art Kayamé couldn't even imagine. With his decision, Kayamé handed him over to Tarai and Emmaline, and returned to paying partial attention.

This routine of learning, daydreaming, and selling continued for the rest of the morning, until Kayamé heard the distant toll of bells. Since the two great bells in the tower rang out only at the opening of the city gates at dawn, their closing at dusk and the sun's zenith, she realized with a start that it was midday. Emmaline heard them as well, and ushered the girls inside.

"We always close the shop at midday," she explained as she set down the display. "We have no need of the extra revenue — money," she clarified at the girls' confusion. "I see we shall have to increase your vocabulary, as well. The streets are hardly a place to learn much."

_Not much by their standards_, Kayamé thought. But then, there was little time for anything but survival. Not the best environment for acquiring polite and complicated speech patters or arithmetic, but it taught some very clear lessons about the world. Lessons like: Adapt or be crushed. Improvise and overcome, or die. Learn how the hierarchy of the world hidden in alleys and populated by the invisible residents of the city worked, or die at the hands of these fellow citizens.

Nothing to learn, indeed.

Despite Kayamé's cynicism, Tarai was engrossed by Emmaline's willingness to answer questions, even through preparation of the midday meal. Emmaline laughed at each question, but always kindly, and never tired of giving a thorough answer. Kayamé found the opportunity to as a few question herself, but she was more interested in another meal where she could eat as much as she wanted. Their question and answer session continued through lunch, with Ghenn joining them. He appeared as thrilled as his wife by the girls' eagerness to learn, and occasionally expanded a few of Emmaline's answers to make it even more complete. Even the occasional silences of eating were filled with a sense of thoughtfulness.

Ghenn returned to his work after midday, but Emmaline kept the girls at the table.

"Now, we have some choices to make," she began. "If you like you can simply walk out the door and come back tomorrow for firstmeal. We want to help you, not command you, and I won't insist on teaching you if you don't want to learn. If you're tired you could take a nap or spend some time outside, but I can also start teaching you the alphabet proper."

"Please!" Tarai begged, eyes shining. There was a desperate longing in her voice, and Kayamé realized she had never truly known how deep Tarai's desire to be literate extended. She tried to keep up her indifferent expression, but her own excitement broke through. Not even momma could write more than her name, and read more than a few words. This... was the first step in escaping momma's world, the world she despised but could break free from. As the sheer enormity of what the couple was offering truly sunk in, Kayamé decided that any risk she and Tarai could be taking was outweighed be the opportunity.

Emmaline disappeared behind the closed door in the front room, returning with an armful of paper, quills and ink. She carefully wrote two words on a piece of paper and placed it between them, and gave them their own writing supplies.

"We'll start with the practical, and work our way up to the whole alphabet. After you learn the basics, I can teach you by copywork, which will improve both your memory retention and your handwriting. Legible handwriting is very important for a business, especially with numbers. Now, the /_t/_ sound in Tarai's name is represented by a straight line across and another beneath it..."

A new life; one without hunger, and education and opportunities momma or the bullying street gangs could only imagine... Kayamé looked over at Tarai, painstakingly dragging her quill pen across the paper in an attempt to copy Emmaline's example.

"Maybe it _is_ all a dream," she whispered too quietly for anyone else to hear as she bent over her paper. "But if it is... let me sleep forever."

– – – – –

Well, it's a semi-abrupt change in the lives of Kayamé and Tarai, but a good one. Non-angst! Next chapter will return to our favorite blondes (not ditzes, thankfully). And to clarify, an Aed is a copper coin, the smallest unit of currency used in the present time.

– – – – –

Reviewer Thanks:

Babymar-mar: Glad you like it, and your guesses are right.

Girls of Darkness: I'm glad you like the characterizations in this fic; I'm trying to keep them accurate. Familial relations are Kain and Jadeite, Makoto and Zoisite, and Rei and Ami.

Fire Lady: Sorry you're having so much trouble with the names, but you're not alone. The name conversions have been added to the beginning of the first chapter, to help you keep them straight.

Secrets: Names _are_ fascinating, and Iris should be showing up again soon.

Ele: More for you, Ele-chan! Thanks for everything.

Chiri-chan: Tamora Pierce? Really?

Novaleigh617: Thank you so much for all of your reviews, Nova-chan. I'm trying to catch the typos, but there's so many of them, darn things. The boys do tease Dyani, I'm sure, just… :cough: they haven't in any of the scenes yet. Right. And the end of chapter 6 was bad; I need to revise it. Yin's accent was supposed to seem uncultured, but what can you do? Bandits were responsible for the attack on the village, btw. And I think I edited the Saidi typo, at least. Thanks again for all the encouragement!

Merry Faerie: Take your time, Merry-san. You'll definitely read faster than I write regardless. Thanks!

– – – – –

You people are all wonderful. Please keep making me aware of typos, plotholes, etc., and I'll try to keep the story moving. See you next time!

Ocianne

8/04

– – – – –


	10. Paradigms

Completed 10/04

- - - - -  
Chapter Ten: Paradigms  
- - - - -

"Now, Iris, you need to relax. You can do this, my little rabbit; it just takes practice. Remember the feeling and try to find it in your mind again."

Iris nodded from where she stood in the middle of the front room. The sunbeams shining on her face through the front wall's window elicited no reaction from her sightless eyes; her shadow touched the brick fireplace and mantle behind her. A table and her toy chest stood to the right, and on her left the couch and Aran's favorite chair divided the front room from the kitchen. Drawing comfort from her knowledge of the familiar surroundings, Iris closed her eyes again.

She took a deep, calming breath and followed her mother's instructions, searching for the strange, tingly sensation. She had found it twice today already, but lost hold of it again in her excitement, just like she had for the past three weeks.

After a short silence her mind's eye brushed it once more, and she gasped — reached— and lost it. She sat down on the floor, hard, her eyes filling with tears of frustration. "I can't do it, mama!"

Miki knelt beside her daughter and pulled the girl onto her lap in a comforting embrace. "Yes, you can," she replied soothingly. Iris shook her head and continued to cry. "You're an amazing girl, Iris. I know you can do this. It doesn't matter how long it takes."

"But it's so hard!" Iris wailed, her six-year-old self hating the fact that she couldn't master what sounded like such a simple thing.

Miki sighed, having lost count of how many times Iris had lost patience over the past week. Perhaps it was time to try a new tack. She waited until Iris had cried her frustrations out of her system and calmed down before speaking. "Yes, it is hard. Do you know what that means?"

Iris shook her head, scrubbing the tears off of her face.

"It means that it takes time and work to learn. Did you think you would always understand everything the first moment you heard it, or learn something the first time you tried it?" Silence was Iris's only answer, but Miki understood it anyway. Iris had never truly experienced a challenge before. "Many things in life, even the best things that will ever happen to you, will be hard. You'll have to learn perseverance in order make it through and reach them. Can you do that, Iris?"

Iris's silence changed from sullen to thoughtful, and she shifted in Miki's arms, turning her face upward to focus blind eyes on her mother. "I don't know, mama. Hard is... hard."

Miki smiled. "Well, how about if I promise to help you until you can make it through hard by yourself?"

Iris contemplatively wrinkled her nose, reminding Miki again of why she had given Iris her rabbit nickname. "Promise?"

"Promise," Miki agreed, lightly kissing her daughter's forehead. "Now help me make midday, and then we'll try again after we eat, all right?"

"All right, mama."

Later that afternoon, Iris stood in the front room with her eyes closed for the second time that day. The area rug covering the square patch of wooden floor felt slightly squishy beneath her bare feet. Miki knelt beside her, clasping the girl's hand in both of hers.

"Ready, Iris?"

Iris nodded emphatically, her long hair bouncing at the motion.

Miki carefully led Iris through the process again, making sure she stayed calm and focused. Their progress was slow and painstaking, but Miki refused to let Iris get discouraged or frustrated by how much time had passed, or distracted by the birdsongs audible outside.

Finally, after at least an hour and a half, Iris stiffened slightly and exhaled.

"Now, hold on to it," Miki commanded. Iris obeyed, her head moving around as if she were examining something right in front of her. "Let yourself get accustomed to the feeling. The better you know it, the easier it will be to find and hold onto."

Concentrating wasn't always Iris's strong suit, but she put forth a grand effort for the sake of her mother and carefully memorized how she felt. Then she nodded, still holding on to the sensation in her mind, her excitement beginning to get the better of her. "I think I have it, mama!"

"Remember, calm. Otherwise you'll lose it."

Horrified at the very thought after having come so far, Iris forced herself to calm down. For a moment she thought she _was_ going to lose her still somewhat shaky hold, but her fears went unrealized and she stood triumphantly, still in contact with the feeling.

"You're doing marvelously. Ready for the next step?"

"I think so, mama."

"Concentrate on that sensation and tug at it a little with your mind. If nothing happens, try it from a different way."

Though by itself Miki's instruction would have seemed to make little sense, Iris understood the point and tried it. On her first try, nothing happened, but on the second something seemed to shift.

"_Mama_!" Iris gasped. She turned to Miki with her eyes wide and shining, her hands clasped together in front of her. And Miki realized that she had been right. Iris's eyes were focused. On her.

Iris was seeing.

- - - - -

_Donnnnnnng!_

Aislyn woke at the bell's toll but kept her eyes closed. The moment they opened she would get an eyeful of sunlight from the window facing her bed. She was far, far too exhausted to get up anyway. Her mathematics homework had devoured half of her sleeping time, since numbers hated letting her find the right answers. It was maddening, and made for many a sleepless night of solving, checking, and re-checking.

The blankets were so warm, and she was so tired... it wouldn't hurt to rest for a few more minutes...

_Donnnnnnng!_

At the sound of the second bell Aislyn jerked back awake, her body responding to the conditioning it had endured over the past four and a half years. The second bell was the last wake-up call. To fall asleep again would murder any chance she had for a decent day, or even a decent week.

Thoroughly awake at the very thought, Aislyn rolled off her bed and began her morning routine: dressing, morning ablutions, cleaning her corner of the room, and ignoring the gossip of her seven roommates as they did the same.

As smells from the dining hall wafted into the room she made her bed and stowed her possessions in the wooden chest. It still felt a little strange to be so neat, since before she had left home her room always looked like a windstorm had just passed through. Here at the school complex, however, messiness was not tolerated, which meant the small area she called her own stayed spotless.

Aislyn glanced at the clock above the door and gave a cry of dismay. She grabbed her bag and ran to the dining hall already full of chattering girls, practically inhaled the food set at her place, and dashed out again. The boys training institution was in another part of the education complex, and she had ten minutes to get there. Even using all the extra swiftness she possessed as a Sylph, her record travel time between buildings stood at eleven minutes, thirty-seven seconds.

Time to set a new record, then.

Aislyn skidded up to her classroom door and slipped inside as the giant bell in the complex's center signaled the start of classes. She dropped into the last empty seat, the one closest to the door, and busied herself with retrieving her homework from her bag, hoping _Nii_ Dairn wouldn't comment on her arrival.

"So glad you could join us, Lady Aire," said her teacher without glancing up from the papers on his desk. Aislyn cringed. A welcome like that did _not_ bode well for the rest of the day.

She was right. During the discussion of history, she forgot who lead the terrorist group that tried to assassinate the emperor's father, Emperor Vendre II, five hundred years ago. When Dairn returned the previous day's homework, she found her map of the Capital's surrounding countryside was scaled wrong, and would have to be completely redrawn to receive any credit. To top the morning off, during Dairn's science lecture she received her classmate's semi-regular notice that denounced her right to attend their class, and said she should go back to her girly studies with the rest. Though not entirely unexpected, the reminder of twenty boys' disdain was just one more thing to pile on to her general exhaustion.

It was bad enough, she mused as she ate lunch in the boys' dining hall with her six fellow girl extremists, that she had to fool her teachers for five more years, without having the extra need to prove her worth to her peers as well. She bit into her pear with a resigned sigh and let her eyes drift around the hall.

Funny, the way the students congregated. The staff ate around two tables at one end of the hall, with the outspoken extremists nearest to them and the least vocal at the far end, nearest the main doors. Since she sat with the extremists, she never really had a chance to see the people who could be potential allies in her little private war. She didn't dare try to talk to them, not with how her classmates would react; the most she could do was try and memorize what a few of them looked like, for future reference.

Like the cute brunette boy who stood half a head taller than most of the entire student body, although he was in her year and had to be about her age. It was impossible _not_ to notice him. He stood out even on the other side of the dining hall, talking to his friends and laughing. She was pretty sure his name was Landon; all the classes had weapons and magic training together, and she thought the training instructor called him that —

Aislyn abruptly paused in her thoughts, narrowly avoiding choking on a bite of pear. Today was an all-afternoon training day rather than a half-afternoon, _and_ a review day. She closed her eyes, wishing that reality would go away. With her luck she would be called on to do something she couldn't. For all of her hard-earned skills in physical combat, her mastery of magic skill remained severely limited to a few heavily practiced works.

Abandoning her last shreds of hope for a good day, she polished off her pear and walked to the training grounds with all the enthusiasm of a condemned prisoner heading to the executioner's block.

- - - - -

Iris couldn't stop moving, mesmerized by the world of shapes and colors she had never seen. She flitted around the house, looking as if she were trying to memorize its appearance in case she lost her sight again. She turned to her play corner and began examining her toys, seeing them for the first time, exclaiming over the colors she had never seen before.

"Mama, how?"

Miki smiled at her daughter with tear-filled eyes. She rose from her kneeling position and took a detailed painting and a mirror that stood on the mantelpiece, sitting on the couch with them on her lap. "Come look, Iris. I'll show you."

Iris jumped onto the couch beside her mother, pausing only a moment as the cream fabric of the cushion distracted her. Miki held out the portrait to her, and Iris examined it with interest.

"Is that papa? And me?"

The picture showed Iris and her father sitting outside in the garden in the dappled shadows of a maple tree. Aran smiled out at the viewer, so carefully detailed that the individual brown hairs of his short beard could be discerned. Iris waved from her father's lap, her eyes dancing happily. In the bottom corner of the oval canvas lay Miki's signature.

"Yes, that's the two of you. That's your blue eyes and blonde hair."

"Blue. Blonde," Iris repeated, pulling her hair around to see it.

"Now, look here." Miki replaced the painting with the mirror, letting Iris peer at the reflective surface.

"Oh!"

Iris's pale skin and blonde hair looked no different from the picture, but the eyes... Iris stared at her double's eyes in wonder. Instead of a bright sky blue, she gazed at two orbs of pale cream flecked with shades of all the colors in the rainbow. And there was something else — Iris looked up at her mother's face, then back down at the mirror.

Miki saw comprehension dawn on her daughter's face. Iris had realized that while the blue eyes of her mother and the painting held pupils, her own now had none.

"How — what —?" For once in her short life, Iris seemed lost for words.

"Iris, look at me." Iris obeyed, and Miki gazed down at her little girl as she reached in her own mind for the sensation she had spent so many weeks teaching Iris to find. She tugged it lightly, and turned the mirror to encompass them both. Another pair of pupilless eyes gazed out from the glass-covered silver surface.

"I've been teaching you about the Fae; do you remember what the Tienchi look like?"

"The earth-fae. They look like humans, mama, except... for their eyes..."

"That's right, Iris. Your papa is human, but I am a fae. Because you are our child, you hold the blood of both races, and can naturally take the appearance of both. You have also inherited Tienchi magic from my blood."

"Magic, mama?" Iris turned from the mirror to stare at her mother, trying to absorb everything she was hearing.

"Yes, like how I disguise myself to appear human." Miki hid her eyes again, letting the magic façade settle over them. "But your human form is not a disguise; simply put, you can transform between fae form and human form."

"Why can I see this way?" Iris asked, voicing the most pressing of her questions.

"Tienchi sight is different from human sight. When you change it can work properly with your form and you can see, but it cannot work when you are human. That's why you've been blind."

"Can I stay this way, mama? Please?" Iris pleaded. "There's so much..." She trailed off, unable put her thoughts into words.

"I'm afraid you can't all the time, darling." Before Iris could protest, Miki hurried to continue: "When you meet people, it's not safe to look like a Fae. You can only be changed with people you trust completely, you understand?"

"Yes, but—"

"If you stay changed for too long you will forget what it's like to be blind, and be forced to learn how to compensate for having no sight all over again. To be able to live in either manner, you must first master both. Which is why I'm going to teach you to use your magic, as well."

"Really?"

"Why else do you think I taught you how to find it?"

Iris giggled. "Teaching me everything in the world?"

Miki laughed at the thought and began tickling her daughter. Iris squealed and squirmed, laughing uncontrollably, but remained pinned. "Well, I'll have to teach you how to escape a captor while I'm at it, won't I?"

"Mama!"

After a few more seconds Miki relented and released Iris. "However, first the garden needs weeding. And since you can see now, you can help me."

"The garden!" Iris dashed out the door, intent on seeing the beauty of the outdoors she had only felt and heard.

Miki smiled after her daughter, then gathered her gardening tools and followed Iris outside.

- - - - -

Aislyn panted slightly, practice sword in hand, worn out from the long procession of sword duels Lesin had just forced the entire group through. She sat down on the grassy field behind the boys' school building where their combat instructor, Lesin, trained them in magic and weapons. Closing her eyes partway, she bowed her head and let the cool autumn breeze wash over her skin.

Magic was over, swords was over, and after this blessed fifteen-minute break all that remained was specialty weapons. He was working them harder than usual today; going from past experience she figured her muscles would be sore for a week afterwards. At least.

Her classmates were quieter than normal, even for one of Lesin's breaks, smarting from the physical strain and verbal lashing that characterized his exam style. She could hear one or two quiet conversations, probably comparisons of wins and losses. She didn't care enough to try listening in.

She did hear an anonymous classmate mutter "Sadist," and she smirked. He did seem to enjoy pushing every one of them to their limits and beyond. The only consolation was that they all suffered according to their objective level of skill — no favorites, no targets, only equally idiotic dimwits. And they learned.

Aislyn curled her hand slightly as it lay palm up in the grass, and concentrated. A small pattern of light-sparks appeared in her loose fist, barely visible in the late afternoon sun. She smiled at it. Three months of extra practice in creating light, snatched from her sparse free time, had paid off. With the good fortune of being assigned to make light, she'd been able to go far beyond the usual glowy light-ball. She almost thought that Lesin had sent an approving upward curl of the lips in her direction after criticizing the brightness of her creation, but she wasn't ready for the world to end quite yet.

She sighed and banished the sparkling points of light. It was a beginning, even if there was so much left to work on. Her father had once told her that she held enormous magic potential, if only she had the skill and patience to harness it. She might not have the skill yet, but the memory of ridicule supplied more than enough patience.

"Win them all, Aislyn?" Aislyn looked up. Deirdre, the closest thing she had to a friend among her schoolmates, gave her a smile. The girl was older than her by a year, and though Aislyn could hardly believe it, more devoted to hating humans than she pretended to be. Deirdre had gravitated to Aislyn from their similar attitudes, and Aislyn did her best to keep up her façade. When Deirdre talked about humans, the light in her golden eyes was _scary_. And she fought like a whirlwind: deadly and untouchable.

"Maybe a majority, if I'm lucky. Did you lose _any_?" Aislyn replied.

"To Ayl. The jerk is unbeatable. I'll be glad when he graduates."

"Don't let Ayn hear you say that. She'd claw you."

Deirdre snorted. "Thank you for reminding me of the _other_ lovely classmate I'll be happy to see graduate this spring."

"So happy to oblige." Aislyn stretched, pulling her arms back, and then pushed herself into a handstand. Her small size made dexterity imperative for an even fight, and she worked hard to stay limber. Her miserable magic skill was due in part to the fact that she had spent the previous four years focusing almost entirely on physical fighting skills.

"Weapons change!" Lesin barked, dark eyes glaring at the students from an ageless face. His tall frame quivered with pent up energy, looking for all the world like he was just waiting for someone to pounce on.

"And here we go..." Deirdre sighed as they walked to the large equipment building at the edge of the training field.

In the shed Aislyn picked up her whip, happy to feel the familiar grip in hand. She possessed a natural skill with the whip, honed by practice, and enjoyed using it. Deirdre retrieved her bow and quiver and waved as she headed to the archery targets, leaving Aislyn with her fellow melee fighters.

"Serah! Paden!" Lesin bellowed, pointing at a random girl and boy in the group. Aislyn joined the makeshift ring of watching students as the second round of dueling began. She glanced wistfully over at the archery targets, easily finding Deirdre's bright red hair among the other archers. It would be nice to have someone around now to commiserate with over Lesin's way of training.

He seemed to do the impossible, watching both the duels and the archery routines simultaneously. It gave Aislyn a headache, watching between her own fights as he darted around, turning and shouting criticisms at everyone at once. She was willing to swear he had to split himself in two in order to see everything, but see everything he did.

"Aislyn! Landon!"

Aislyn trudged into the circle. She looked up to meet his gaze — and further up. Her head didn't even reach the tall and gangly brunette boy's shoulders. He hefted his weapon, a single-bladed polearm, and nodded at her in the customary salute (most of the weapons didn't lend themselves to a normal swordsman's salute, so respectful nods substituted). She returned the gesture, and the fight began.

Almost immediately Aislyn realized she was in trouble. Her normal strategy of quickly disarming her opponent, which worked better than just lacerating them with the braided leather, wouldn't work. His grip on his weapon was too strong for her to snag it from him. She paused her offensive for a moment, unsure what to do instead. As she tried to change tacks against him, aiming for his wrists, he abruptly jarred her whip out of her hands with a hit from the unbladed side of his polearm. Aislyn found herself staring down the slightly curved, foot-long blade held mere centimeters from her face. Even though as a training weapon the blade was a dark, polished wood, it could easily break her nose.

Weaponless, she raised her hands, conceding defeat. He withdrew his weapon with a half-smile and Aislin retrieved her dropped weapon before exchanging another salute. Lesin was a stickler for proper dueling behavior, a habit formed who knew when. In Fae society life-spans varied wildly, and it was extremely bad form to ask about a fae's age. For all Aislyn knew, Lesin had been around during the assassination attempt on Vendre II five hundred years ago, or he could have graduated from the school in the last ten years and live for less than a hundred more.

"Dismissed!" called Lesin, and Aislyn realized that she and Landon had been the last duel of the day. The sun was fast approaching the horizon. "Put your gear away properly, you lazy idiots, or you'll clean the entire inventory spotless before I'm through with you!"

Since no one doubted he would happily follow through on his threat, the students put their training weapons and protective gear away with great care. Aislyn met up with Deirdre outside, and the two jogged off to the girls' living quarters to change out of their sweaty, grimy clothes before dinner was served in their dining hall.

"See you there!" said Aislyn over her shoulder as she entered her quarters. She changed, thought longingly of a steaming hot bath, and then decided by a large growl from her stomach that food took precedence. Dinner, then a bath, revising her geography map, her science homework, and then sleep. Sleep...

Aislyn yawned, glanced wistfully at her waiting bed, turned and winced as the setting sun hit her eyes through the window above her trunk, and left for the dining hall. The day wasn't over yet, but it would be soon. The world of dreams awaited.

- - - - -

And so the blonde duo returns. More of Iris coming soon, and the Ryven gang as well. And to anticipate the question, yes, Landon _is_ Nephrite. He may reappear again in Aislyn's world in future chapters, but he's sticking to the "mysterious unknown" beat for now. Mamoru will hopefully debut within the next two chapters.

There's a cookie for whoever mentions the other two cameos in a review. ::holds up plate of chocolate chocolate-chip cookies:: I'm trying to bring in the rest of the SM universe as minor characters, but bear with me — it's easier to create a character to fit a role than to build the role around an already existent character.

More to come soon, since my lovely editor reminds me that my (hopefully) loyal followers need more story to read. Thank you, 'shina! ::glomps:: (And I promise someday I'll fix the glaring errors of the previous chapters so they're as good as this one; someday.)

- - - - -

Reviewer Responses:

Fire Lady: I'm honored that this story is one of your favorites. I love to hear your questions and encouragement. I'm still working out the kinks in Kayamé and Tarai's future, and Ghenn and Emmaline are original characters. Artemis and Luna should have cameos eventually, though. I love the cats. Also, there _will_ eventually be chapters in the ten years and beyond time frame. Eventually.

Novaleigh617: Thanks for the typo-alert, and I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. No Ryven this time, but they'll definitely be coming back soon. Don't worry, they're all ok, just busy with rebuilding the town. Yes, 9 feels slight dues-ex machina-ed, but that's partially because the end of the chapter got squished into a smaller time frame than it needed. It ain't over yet, though. Stay tuned... ;)

EmeraldSong: You timed your question about Iris rather well; I hope this chapter explains a bit, about Iris's blindness and who are Fae. Who is and who isn't will be revealed over time; at the moment the ratio has changed to three out of eight characters confirmed fae and the other five assumed human. Make no assumptions about race, however... ::grin::

Mistress of Ice1: ::laughs:: I'm glad you're loving to read about Ami and Rei's life. They've gotten a pretty even spotlight in the chapter distribution so far, and I hope to keep it that way. They'll come back soon, though! (For an elastic definition of soon. ::cough::)

Merry Faerie: I'm glad you're still reading, Merry-san! I'm so happy you're reviewing every chapter, too; it's wonderful to know someone's thinking that much about the story. It's also great to know that I'm getting what I want to be shown, written. Typos will be fixed soon, I hope. And yes, cliffhangers are never as evil to the author as they are to the reader. ::hugs:: I'm so happy you think I portray the characters well!

- - - - -

Cheers!

Ocianne

- - - - -


	11. Thievery and Jumping Frogs

– – – – –

Chapter Eleven: Thievery and Jumping Frogs

– – – – –

Tarai shivered as she and Kayamé huddled together in one of their Hides, feeling like she was caught up in a nightmare. And the day had started out so _well_...

Three months had passed since they first met Ghenn and Emmaline. The old couple showed no signs of losing interest in them, and the days had gone by in a blur of learning, _regular_ meals, and good company before returning to _The Gryphon_ to sleep. Kayamé had even begun giving Tarai a run for her money in learning — the older girl often found intuitively what Tarai logically concluded, achieving the answer faster but without as much support. And while Tarai unquestionably had a better memory for facts, Kayamé was the one who could apply them to a given situation. Emmaline often joked that they could answer any question or quandary so long as they stayed together, but the Creator help then if they were ever separated!

The girls received more than book learning, too. Along with helping Emmaline sell Ghenn's glass creations, they assisted in the kitchen and cleaning the house, and even began mending clothes. Ghenn also insisted on giving them each a glass-pendant necklace: a trio of teardrops for Tarai, and a delicate swirl for Kayamé.

It was the clothes that got them in trouble. While Tarai and Kayamé spent several afternoons stitching up various snags and holes, Emmaline took two old shirts and transformed them into a pair of dresses. Ecstatic at possessing clothes that fit, they unthinkingly wore them home — and Yin exploded at them.

Tarai shivered again at the memory. She tried to forget it, push it out of her mind, but it was too fresh: Yin bellowing at them about how they would regret accepting a present later, what they would owe when their supposed benefactor came to collect, and how she had idiot children who never thought about consequences and repercussions. And then Kayamé finally lost her temper right back, and Tarai watched the shouting match go on and on until Kay screamed something about doing Yin a favor and leaving forever, so she wouldn't have to bother with them. Angry tears streaming down her face, Kayamé grabbed Tarai's hand and dragged her down the stairs into the darkening streets.

With nowhere else to go, they sought out the nearest Hide. Kayamé had gone especially slow on the way, wary for the gangs that became active at sunset. On the way home they had passed one gang plotting something so intently that only one dark-haired boy had even noticed them; he merely raised his eyebrows in response to their sneaking attempt before returning his attention back to the gang huddle. Luckily, the rest of the trip occurred without incident, which brought Tarai's thoughts back to the present.

Kayamé was beginning to doze, and Tarai realized that she was sleepy too. The Hide was safe — a pile of junk and wooden boards in a back alley dead-end concealed a hollow space between pile and wall just big enough for the girls to stretch out in. If she ignored the cold, she could imagine that she was wrapped in the beautifully woven coverlet she had seen on Emmaline and Ghenn's bed, and then it would be comfortable enough to fall asleep...

Several hours later, Tarai woke at a nudge from Kayamé. The older girl preemptively silenced her automatic inquiry of "What's going on?" with a finger on her lips, and instead motioned for Tarai to listen.

A patchwork of light filtered into the Hide, made by a couple of small torches. Tarai lay quietly, trying to catch the low voices of the torchbearers and company.

"...told you to have it. Where is it, proby?"

"With his coordination skills he probably dropped it on the way," snickered a second voice. A ripple of laughter was quickly hushed by a sharp command from the first speaker.

"I hid it," said a younger boy, his voice on the edge between boyhood and youth, "so that if someone searched me between doing the job and you arriving, I wouldn't get arrested. I may be new, but I'm not an idiot."

This declaration was answered by a non-committal grunt. "Let's see what you got, then."

There was the shuffle of feet on alley-debris, and then Tarai felt her mouth go dry in panic as a shadow fell over the Hide. A few strategically placed boards were removed, and the two girls stared at the intruder — who stared right back in astonishment.

Because he was silhouetted against the alleyway Tarai couldn't see his face, but she did see him visibly recover from his surprise, then point at something behind them and beckoned urgently. Tarai vaguely recalled pushing something out of the way as they went to sleep earlier that evening. Kayamé immediately turned and began searching quietly in the dim light, and Tarai felt relief that her sister processed things so quickly, so she didn't have to worry about reacting instinctively herself.

"What's the hold up, proby?" growled the first voice, which Tarai decided belonged to the gang-leader. She racked her brain for what "proby" meant among the gangs – Kayamé would know, since she always paid more attention to they said, but making noise to ask was out of the currently question.

"Impatience leads to error; patience, victory," Proby responded over his shoulder, going through the motions of moving things around as Kayamé clasped something in her hand and held it up triumphantly.

She hurriedly passed a small drawstring to Tarai, who handed it up just as a fourth voice ordered their silent protector to quit quoting philosophic tarn and do his job instead.

"But they describe the dung heap of life so well, Denz," said the amateur philosopher amusedly, turning to toss the bag at one of the gang-members Tarai couldn't see since the boy blocked them from view. This meant, of course, that he was blocking her from the gang's view as well, probably on purpose, and she was immensely grateful for it. There was no telling what would happen if they were found by the likes of this boy's new friends. As he replaced to wood to hide the girls, on a sudden impulse Tarai pulled her necklace over her head and shoved it into his hand. He paused almost imperceptibly at the unanticipated move, then palmed the piece of jewelry and retreated back to the ring of torchlight

"'S a small prize for so much work," a new voice grumbled.

"But worth a fortune," the leader gloated. Tarai wondered what their serendipitous protector had stolen, then decided she didn't want to know. "Next time we swipe this shop, I want a multi-job. The more your loot is worth, the bigger your share'll be. Clear?"

A round of grunts and varyingly affirmative responses answered him.

"So, I'm in?" A trial, Tarai realized. Proby had to refer to a probationary member of the gang, being tested before he could join them.

"With that kind of heist?" snickered the voice of Denz, before yelping at an unseen, but distinctly loud, smack.

"He got the goods, and in a sight cleaner job than your beginning," declared the leader. "You're in, Mikael. Don't piss anyone off and you'll stay that way." His voice abruptly sharpened. "Break up. Two at a time, three at most. Don't hang around and don't get caught. Mikael, you're with me. Scram!"

Sounds of movement testified to his orders being obeyed, and after a while the last pair of young hoodlums left the alley. As Tarai's eyes adjusted to the moonlight she saw Kayamé cock her head, listening to the silence.

"They're gone, Ta," she pronounced. Tarai released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and slumped against the Hide wall.

"I _never_ want to do that again!" she declared fervently. Kayamé nodded her agreement. So many things could have gone wrong; the entire scenario was a disaster waiting to happen.

"Next time we'll check better to see if it seems like anyone else knows about the Hide before staying."

"Yeah." There was nothing Tarai could think to add, so she settled for concurring. Besides, it was late and she was exhausted. A few hours of sleep hadn't made up for the evening's stress, and she couldn't suppress a yawn.

"Oh, good thinking about the necklace, Ta," Kayamé murmured as the girls settled back down next to each other.

Tarai blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Giving him your necklace. I'm sorry you lost it, but we can recognize him later, if he wears it."

"Oh." The thought had honestly not crossed her mind. "I was just trying to thank him. It was the only thing I could think of before he would have left."

Kayamé smiled at the confession and shook her head affectionately. "Only you would give away your best stuff to a stranger as a thank you."

"I guess it was kind of silly. But I think we'd've died if he hadn't done what he did."

"Not well thought out for sure, but a good idea anyway. It's like how Emma says I see answers – can't explain 'em, but I know they're right. And now we'll know one boy we don't have to avoid in the future, hopefully."

Tarai yawned again, letting her eyelids close. "I guess maybe instinct isn't always so bad, Kay. But thinking is so important to see if something could go wrong..."

"Ta, instinct is good for all the time, but it's especially for _when_ something goes wrong."

Tarai nodded vaguely. She wondered if Kayamé's instincts would know what to do when tomorrow night came... but that was tomorrow. Tonight was tonight, and Tarai intended on getting as much sleep as she could before the sun rose.

– – – – –

Even though firstmeal was over, the kitchen still buzzed with activity. Liessa oversaw the thorough cleaning of her domain with a broom in hand, already planning midday in her head. Dyani worked at the table standing against the outside wall, kneading dough to make bread for midday. On her right stood Issie, one of the housekeeper-cum-cooks that Liessa employed for help around the house, cleaning the firstmeal dishes in the washtub.

A gentle breeze came through the open window in front of them, cooling the room pleasantly. Dyani leaned into the breeze, away from the hot baking oven to her left. She was adjusting to earlier mornings and cooking just fine, but remained unaccustomed to the warm and slightly stuffy kitchen.

Issie unexpectedly poked Dyani, and she jerked away from the ticklish sensation towards the middle of the worktable, her eyes flying open and an uncontrolled giggle escaping her lips. The teenager smiled at the younger girl.

"Wake up, sleepyhead. You're going to fall into the dough."

"Hah!" Dyani playfully threw a pinch of the flour on the table at Issie, which fell to the floor between them in a small white cloud (thankfully Liessa hadn't swept there yet). Issie retaliated by flicking her wet hands at Dyani. "Hey!" Dyani ducked, but still got some water on her face and hair. Before a full-fledged kitchen war could commence, however, a knock came from the doorway.

"Dyani, you almost done?" Erik poked his head in the kitchen, loathe to actually enter the still busy room.

"Almost — wait just a second!" Dyani quickly shaped her thoroughly kneaded dough into a loaf on one of the stone baking platters. It would rise for a few hours, then bake just in time for midday. "May I go, mother?"

Liessa glanced up from talking with her second-in-command, Aya, and nodded. "Well done, Dyani. Go ahead."

Dyani grinned at the praise. Liessa seemed to have softened slightly since the raid, replacing some of her natural sternness with motherly concern for all four of her children — six, now. The extra lessons had been far more enjoyable than Dyani had anticipated, especially since she seemed to have a knack for cooking.

"Shoo, child. I'll not have you be late for school."

With a wave to Issie, Dyani removed her apron, cleaned her arms, and dashed upstairs to the room she now shared with Pax and Saidi. Slipping on her shoes, she snatched her schoolbag from beneath her bed and ran downstairs to where Erik, Kain and Jaeden waited.

"Ready," she announced breathlessly. Kain nodded, and the group set out.

The short walk to the schoolhouse was quiet, with only Jaeden and Erik talking together. Kain led the way, silently watching everything they passed: people going about their business; workers repairing the last of the damaged houses; guardsmen changing shifts; a wolfhound lounging in the morning sun. Dyani concentrated on walking fast enough to keep up with the longer-legged boys. They joined up with several other children en route and exchanged greetings; Jaeden and Erik pulled a trio of boys into their conversation, but no one dared to approach Kain's silence. Dyani sighed. Ever since school had begun again last month (after a sessionbreak full of somber adults and subdued children's play), the quartet had followed the same routine: a quiet walk to school, lessons no one was really interested in, and weapons training three times a week, alternating days between the young novices and the older trainees.

A quiet stillness remained hanging over the town, even though people seemed to be adjusting to the changes wrought in their lives. Most people, at least. Dyani and Erik had tried to draw Kain and Jaeden back to their normal behaviors, but could boast only nominal success. Kain hadn't truly smiled once since coming to live with them, and Dyani had almost lost hope of seeing the distinctive crinkle around his eyes that appeared whenever he found something funny. Jaeden at least had started acting more like his boisterous self, even though Dyani knew he went out of his way to avoid seeing the empty Merin house. Papa had said they would take a long time to act like they used to, but wasn't a three months a long time?

"Dyani!"

The call interrupted Dyani's train of thought, and she turned and smiled at the speaker, glad of the distraction. "Morning, Sean. How's your mother?"

Sean was Dyani's closest friend of her own age, and fellow mischief-maker. He fell in step beside her, waving a greeting to whichever of the older boys were paying attention.

"She's better. The cough's almost gone. Is your mom still makin' you learn girly stuff?"

"Sea-an!" She cuffed him lightly in response to his good-natured teasing, though if any other boy dared make such a comment he'd have gone home sporting a black eye. "I'm getting better, too. Issie says I have a good head for recipes."

"What's that mean?"

"Means I remember how to make stuff after I'm told, I think."

"Oh." He paused and ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. "You gonna have to go home right after school again?"

Dyani shook her head. "After we're done with school and training I think I can play. Mama only teaches me in the afternoons on Terrasdays and Airsdays, and today's Woodsday, so I have to go home tomorrow." She brightened as a thought struck her. "But Airsday's my birthday, so I know papa will give me the afternoon free then, too."

Sean grinned. "'Bout time you turned eight, slowpoke. Think you'll get a party?"

"Think so. I think they want to surprise me, but Issie's accidentally talked about it some."

"Great! Maybe mom knows about it; I can ask her tonight."

"Surprise spoiler."

"And proud of it," Sean declared, grinning broadly. "What's the fun of suspense?"

The clear, ringing tones of Madam Atri's handbell interrupted Dyani's reply and the idling students slowly gravitated to inside the town's schoolhouse. Though the building was relatively small compared to the nearby town hall, large glass windows flooded the room with light and made it seem larger. The students all crowded inside onto the rows of long benches, two school-levels to a bench. Under Madam Atri's stern gaze (with an additional disapproving frown from her apprenticed assistant, Lael), conversation ground to a halt and lessons began.

Dyani tried to pay attention as Atri taught, she really did, but her mind kept wandering — first to Kain and Jaeden, then the possible party she had told Sean about, and finally settling on a thoughtless fascination with a bird hopping about outside on one of the windowsills. Only a well-timed nudge from Sean brought her attention back in time to focus on the sum Lael was asking her to solve. Twirling a stray wisp of hair around her finger, she painstakingly worked her way to the answer, breathing a sigh of relief when Lael nodded in approval.

"Dyani," Sean whispered once Lael had moved on to the next group of children. "What's wrong with you? I know you do math slow, but you took almost twice as long as normal!"

Dyani glanced around quickly, confirming that Atri and Lael were otherwise occupied and not about to noticed the children's forbidden conversation. "Nothin'," she mumbled unconvincingly. "Just… stuff."

Sean rolled his eyes, but didn't push it. If he got Dyani in trouble, he was guaranteed to pay for it with bruises during training — she tried to control herself, but if she was angry then Dyani tended to unconsciously practice rough. At least this time, it just wasn't worth it. He'd find out later.

Dyani scraped through the rest of the morning on the best of her distracted attention, and breathed a sigh of relief when the dismissal bell rang. Hurriedly collecting her bag, she joined her fellow younger students in their mass exodus for the guards' training area. The older children scattered, except for Kain and a handful of boys who were already determined to join the guards when they were older. They attended training every day rather than three days a week as the other children did.

Dyani enjoyed training more than lessons on any given day, but today she was especially grateful. Staff work required enough concentration to perform correctly that with minimal effort she could blank everything from her mind but what she was doing. She silently recited the positions and routines along with the instructor as the older man called them out, letting the burning in her muscles keep her mind focused.

Peripherally, Dyani recognized Sean moving beside her, and Erik and Jaeden working with their swords under their own group's instructor. The solid 'thunk' of wood against wood filtered dimly through her concentration as well, confirming the presence of the older children as they dueled in a semi-controlled melée. It was comforting, the vague awareness of their presence, knowing that until the time came when she could protect herself properly, her brothers would do it for her.

Training eventually came to an end, and Dyani tugged on Sean's arm. "Come on, let's go by your house and then the river. The boys have been boring." She wrinkled her nose to emphasize her point.

Sean shrugged in acquiescence. She was right. In the past, Kain could occasionally be convinced to join the pair or their other friends, but now he remained close-mouthed and focused on thoughts or goals only he knew. Erik and Jaeden seemed to spend their free time solely in each other's company, whatever their activity.

Following their plan, Dyani and Sean ate a snack provided by Sean's mother, who claimed (to Dyani's embarrassment and Sean's amusement) that Dyani was nothing but skin and bones and needed fattening up. After nearly stuffing themselves, the pair headed to the dammed part of the river, waving absently as they went to the pair of guards who stood at the woodside gate entrance.

The afternoon was gloriously long and wet. Under the supervision of the guard towers and gate sentries, Dyani and Sean played tag in the shallows and poked and prodded a lone frog they found that was too lazy to hop away. In deference to the late fall air, the decided to forgo any actual swimming in the river's lazy current, which was ice-cold. Sean even coaxed a few of Dyani's worries into the open air, but for the most part she couldn't find the words to articulate the, leaving them both vaguely worried and frustrated. Sean initiated another round of tag, and they ran until they were breathless, their short attention spans effectively forgetting their conversation.

As the sun approached the horizon the pair reluctantly returned inside the safety of the town walls - neither child was willing to risk the overkill of lectures and loss of privileges that would result from being found outside at dark. Dyani collected her schoolbag from Sean's house and started for home. Dinner would probably be just about ready when she arrived. Liessa had been planning chicken and dumplings, and an afternoon of hard play had made Dyani ravenous. She broke into a jog, her bag bouncing as she weaved through the last of the evening street-traffic.

She hummed tunelessly as she went, recalling the day's activities. She grinned as she thought of the frog, which Sean had dubbed Derek, claiming that the Guardmaster's face mirrored the frog's expression perfectly. Maybe come spring she and Sean could find a bunch of frogs, and see which could jump farthest, and then charge their friends and aed to see the celebrated jumping frog of Ryven town…

The lamp-lit windows of her house shone through the encroaching dusk, and still scheming, Dyani climbed the house steps and went inside for dinner.

– – – – –

So... Yes, it's been a long time. The characters don't want to be written, I swear! And my muse abandoned me. I'm still accepting applications for a new one. :sigh: . 

As always, I'm willing to be influenced as to which of the four character sets will show up in the next chapter. Opinions are gladly welcomed. :)

Last chapter's cameos were Ail/Alan and Ann. :hands out cookies to those who guessed correctly: Guessers of this chapter's three cameo characters will receive chocolate-covered coffee beans, dedicated by my coffee-shop friends.

And to those who know Mark Twain, yes, the allusion was made purposely. After the frog plot-bunny appeared, I found I couldn't resist. No promises whether Dyani's schemes will come to anything, though. I'm sure Liessa would have a heart attack if she knew. :grin:

– – – – –

Reviewer Responses:

Ara: Glad you like it. :) And yes, you guessed correctly.

;): The whole point of this story is that it's in an alternate universe, so the girls' identities are different than from the canon SM universe. My SM universe fanfics do use their normal names. Sorry it doesn't make as much sense to you; the first chapter has a guide to the name changes.

Serene Amethyst: I'm glad you like the story and the names; I spent a long time looking for different names that still fit the girls. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and the glimpse of Mamoru in Moire.

Whitemoongirl: Yes, Ayn was Ann. Hope you liked this little glimpse of Mamoru – his part will grow in successive chapters, so don't worry about not seeing him again. :)

Fire Lady: Iris gaining normal vision in her Fae form is easily explainable: The Tienchi race of Fae, of which Miki and Iris are a part, don't see like humans or even other Fae. Their magic provides vision that not only reveals the physical world, but also gives a Tienchi an extra degree of knowledge about their surroundings – if a plant is wilting, if a person is depressed... The strength of this quality varies between Fae, and for Iris it's currently an unknown, but it's one of those "it'll come up eventually" things. :) Hope that made sense. If not, the simple answer is "magic". You're right for the two cameos, too. And if Deirdre does finagle herself into a cameo role, she'll be the _other_ SM redhead that you missed. It's not that hard to figure out, but enjoy the mystery. ;) Thank you so much for your encouragement (and extensive review!).

EmeraldSong: I'm glad you enjoyed seeing Aislyn again. (I hope to bring her back more often, but she can be a challenge… heck, all the girls are so complicated they tend to feel like several bundles of contradictions tossed together and tied up in knots.) Neph will return too, but like Mamoru, is a token "mysterious" character, to keep things interesting as time goes on. Where are his loyalties? What is he up to? I don't _purposefully_ set out to torture you, honest, but it's just so easy to do sometimes:sweatdrop:

Iryl: Thanks for the encouragement! I respect you as an author, so it's gratifying to know you like my humble contribution to SM lore.

Merry Faerie: Yin's speech pattern is the result of a rabid plot-bunny, and more something to provide variety than anything else. Cities are melting pots, so accents and ethnicities would naturally abound there... and sometimes it's hard to demonstrate variety without being obvious about it. :) There's probably some reason in her history that explains Yin's crude accent, and it reflects on how little time she's spent with her children that they don't speak the same way. Heh. Hope you're enjoying the story, Merry-san, and thanks for taking the time to comment.

Daydream24: Thank you so much for your kind words. You make me want to write more of this story, even when the scenes are cantankerous and my muse deserts me. I'm really glad to know people are actually reading and enjoying my little SM world. :)

Thallein: Wow. O.o I'm flattered that I sparked such a response in you. I enjoy trying to figure out the details of the characterizations for these boys and girls – there's so many different directions they could develop, and so many facets to their character it's a challenge to strike a balance and not make a stereotyped, un-unique character. I hope each character when they grow up is a reflection of his or her experiences. I hope you enjoy this latest peek into their lives.

Sapphyre3: Thanks for the point about the extremists... they probably do refer to themselves as advanced or enlightened; I believe that only Aislyn refers to them as extremists, and only in the privacy of her own mind. She'd probably have some severe problems if she spoke that way aloud. I'm pleased you're enjoying this journey through childhood – I know I am:D

– – – – –

See you next time!

Ocianne

7/05

– – – – –


	12. Winter of Their Discontent

– – – – –

Chapter Twelve: Winter of Their Discontent

– – – – –

A heavy winter fog and a light dusting of snow covered the city of Moire, muffling the sounds of the waking city and dimming the streets in defiance of the rising sun. Tarai and Kayamé moved quickly through the streets, both to avoid any unfriendly company and in a effort to become warm. Winter nights were never kind even in the attic, but they were worse in an alleyway with nothing but clothes and the knowledge that the attic would probably never be a refuge from the cold again.

Tarai shivered miserably as they walked. The cold of the falling snow had woken her at least an hour before Kayamé, and she'd had plenty of time to come to a few realizations.

She couldn't help but love momma, because Yin was their mother and had, in her own jaded way, tried to raise them. However, after the debacle of last night, Tarai didn't think Yin would want to see them for a long, long time; Kayamé would probably refuse to go back there for even longer. Tarai remembered watching her fight with momma for things to take care of them with. If she had been an only child, she probably would have been gone long ago, Creator only knew to where and with what fate. For Tarai, though, she had stayed, and waited, and chafed. She had stayed, because there had been nowhere else to go, no other way to be. Except now, she had seen another way of life, a place wholly outside of momma's world. Even if there _was_ nowhere else to go, for good or bad Kayamé had finally run from momma and her world. And Tarai, because she trusted the sister who would do anything to take care of her, had run alongside Kayamé into an unknown future.

Coming to a corner, the two paused beneath the street lamp, heads cocked to listen through the fog for the echoes that substituted for sight. Street traffic was street traffic no matter the time, and more than once they had narrowly avoided being run down by a horse or cart. Tarai closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sounds filter into intelligibility. For one reason or another, her hearing seemed to sharpen rather than diminish amidst fog and rain, so on mornings like these Kayamé trusted her to be guide.

Horse's hooves on cobblestones, echoing closer…

"That way," she declared, pointing down the street. Kayamé nodded, waiting.

A moment later a man stepped past them into the street, hearing almost to late the warning sounds. He avoided being broadsided by the horseman only by means of an undignified scurry, soiling his impracticably fine traveling clothes. The girls hurried across the street in the horse's wake, to disappear before he considered venting his anger on them. Tarai saw Kayamé shake her head in disgust at the man, and had to agree. Moire was not a city to traverse without an already functional knowledge of its layout and workings, or a good and trustworthy guide. To wander alone in clothes that screamed Money and an attitude that advertised "newcomer" was asking to wake up in a dark alleyway considerably less well off – or not at all. It would almost be funny in a sad sort of way, had the girls not seen the latter event occur outside one of their alley Hides.

Tarai pushed the train of thought out of her mind. There were more pressing concerns to think about, like explaining to Ghenn and Emmaline why her necklace was gone. She rubbed the back of her neck regretfully, already missing to familiar feel of metal chain. Everything had made so much sense last night when that boy — Mikael, he'd been called — had saved their lives. Now, she'd lost her only personal possession, and Ghenn's sharp eyes would notice its absence, even if he didn't say anything. She could try saying that the clasp had broken, but she hated lying. Ghenn would probably know if she was, anyway, and for him to know she had lied would be even worse. Besides, the necklace wasn't their biggest problem.

"Kayamé," she began hesitantly as they turned down another street. "Are we going to tell them?"

Kayamé paused, ducking beneath an overhang and out of plain sight. "Tell them?" Tarai heard the forced calm in Kay's voice, and wasn't fooled. The older girl was doing her best to hide her nervousness, and seem confident and in control, but Tarai knew her too well.

"What else can we do?" Though they had clothes, and even slipper-like shoes, there was no possible way for them to survive the heart of winter in alleyways. This winter was colder than any others Tarai could remember, and even some adults had commented on the frigid temperatures; they might last a handful of nights, at best, but no more.

"We have a business proposition with them. They haven't got any obligations toward us. I..." Kayamé looked away, her fists clenching. "Momma was bloodkin and turned away. Why should they help us? I _want_ to believe that they'll help us, Ta," she continued in a fierce, hushed voice, "but I _can't_!" Tarai heard the unsaid words: _I can't have them do the same thing to us._

"Kay, I trust you and you trust me, right?" Kayamé looked up, somewhat startled by the abrupt question. Warily, suspicious of Tarai's purpose, she nodded. "You trusted me when we first met Ghenn, and I said he was benign?"

Kayamé nodded again. "Yes," she whispered, unhappily beginning to suspect.

"I don't think we'll be holked if we tell them. If you can't trust them, you don't have to. Trust _me_."

_I'm sorry, I'm _sorry, Tarai thought desperately in the back of her mind. To use trust against Kayamé was a low and dirty blow, because that was nearly all they had to give each other. _I don't know; I don't **know**, but there's nothing else for us to do. We have to._

Kayamé was too on edge to realize that the tactically sneaky behaviour she'd been trying to teach Tarai for the past year had made an impression, and was being used against her. Tarai held her breath as Kayamé watched her for a few moments, thinking. Then, the façade of confidence Kayamé had been working to hold fell a little, and Tarai saw shadows of fear and stress in her eyes. Slowly, she took hold of Tarai's hand and squeezed it.

"Do it." Two whispered words, but Tarai heard the immense struggle it took to say them, and the implicit trust there. Squeezing back, she took the lead for the remaining streets until they reached Ghenn and Emmaline's house.

Tarai stared at the door, suddenly forbidding in the dawnlight mist. Something was going to change before they walked back out the doorway, and while there was a slightly higher likelihood that the change would be good, the idea of not going back remained daunting.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

– – – – –

Drawing on the courage of necessity, Tarai mounted the steps and knocked on the door.

Ghenn and Emmaline might have been expecting many things that morning, but they probably weren't anticipating Tarai to lead an exhausted-looking Kayamé through the door, and announce that she had something important to tell them. Immediately situated in Ghenn's overstuffed armchair in the old couple's room, Tarai sat hand-in-hand with Kayamé as they waited for her to speak.

Once Tarai began, she relied on momentum to get everything out, and the words didn't stop tumbling from her mouth until she had related everything: Yin, Yin's anger, Hides, the last few months, and then the night before… even the necklace. Finally, her breath spent, Tarai slowed to a halt, waiting for their reaction.

Emmaline moved immediately in the ensuing silence, fussing concernedly and bustling them off to a bath, clean clothes, and a good meal. Tarai lost track of Ghenn for a short time; when he reappeared at the dining table he offered a revised "business proposal" — though even Tarai could recognize he was only trying to salvage their wounded pride, knowing what store Kayamé placed on the little pride she could muster. The only major difference between the old and the new arrangement was that the girls would permanently become members of the household rather than leaving every day at sunset.

Of the possible reactions Tarai had been considering, the old couple fulfilled her most desperate hopes. No anger for their troubles, no revulsion at their helplessness, but simple care and concern over their plight.

Ghenn didn't even seemed bothered about Tarai's necklace, though her description of the circumstances in which she "lost" it were somewhat choppy; he simply smiled and expressed his happiness that it had been put to good use. To their further shock, the same evening that Tarai revealed their troubles he presented her with another gift, accompanied by a smile, a wink, and the admonishment that next time it was Kayamé's turn to give away a gift. The silver chain carried single clear teardrop, encasing a smaller teardrop tinted blue. Tarai was speechless at the kindness and generosity, and could do nothing but stare open-mouthed at the twice-undeserved piece of beauty.

The care evinced by Ghenn and Emmaline on that first day lasted as winter wore on, the old couple never tiring or complaining of their company. The girls continued to learn, work, talk, and play; some afternoons they even explored the city from the perspective of normal children, rather than waifs seeking shelter or their next meal. There was a freedom, a calm, that Tarai had never fully known before, and doubted Kayamé had either. Together, the girls reveled in their wondrous change of circumstances.

During the evenings they rested together in the bedroom, Emmaline in her rocking chair in one corner, and the girls settled in a nest of pillows and blankets in another. Ghenn sat in his overstuffed armchair, telling tales of days long ago to his spellbound audience. Tarai didn't know how he knew so many stories, or even how much of them were true, but they were beautiful and came alive through his voice.

So the days went, and the old life seemed to fade into another lifetime, or as if it had been nothing but a dream…

– – – – –

Morning frost clung to the ground, a mark of the winter that still persisted. The weather had, as usual, turned sharply cold a week after Dyani's bornday, and the first major snowfall occurred two days before the winter Solstice, just in time to usher in the new year and spark many enthusiastic snow fights during the weeklong Solstice Celebration. The Solstice Celebration had been enthusiastically hailed among the townspeople, the first big holiday since the tragedy months before. Dyani had even made the Serden house's celebration-meal dessert all by herself on the final night, an accomplishment earning high praise from all family members; Erik composed an impromptu poem acclaiming their taste that caused Dyani's face to turn redder than her auburn curls.

In fact, Ryven seemed to have returned to normal, with only memories and a new section of stone markers in the graveyard serving as reminders of those passed on. People were (usually with the help of the Healing House's Mind _Curaen_) adjusting, and coping, and moving on with lives. Even, to varying degrees, Kain and Jaeden. They had regular visits _Curae_ Toma, a kind man with a true gift for his field. Under his guidance, they seemed to be beginning what promised to be a long, but hopefully substantial, recovery.

Erik and Dyani had seen him several times as well over the past months; Dyani especially seemed much improved for being able to talk with someone who could understand, and Erik had to agree that he always felt better after a meeting with Toma. The young man had lost his wife and sister year ago, and was an empathetic guide to the children in how to deal with their reactions, emotions, and hurt. His anecdotes about his young daughter Tsaru could always lighten a darkened mood, and seeing the good cheer that he could possess, as a man who had faced great loss, was heartening.

Jaeden preferred to avoid the topic of his parents, never voluntarily talking about them or passing by the Merin home. It was a good sign, however, and a tribute to Toma's abilities that he no longer clammed up if they were ever mentioned in his presence. The only indication he gave that it bothered him was a temporary tenseness, subtle enough that only those who knew him well could see it. His personality had not drastically altered, as Erik had initially feared, but while he had once been the most boisterous of their quartet, he had quieted. The mischievous sparkle in his eyes remained, but he rarely went beyond his verbal wit into the realm of pranks, and on the whole his thoughts tended much more often to remain in his own mind.

Kain had focused. He had always been unofficially apprenticed under Kyr, and the day he turned 14 he became officially apprenticed under Kyr's successor. Derek was a good man, but trying to fill Kyr's shoes was often overwhelming, and Kain had already learned so much that the boy spent more time actively assisting Derek than being taught other aspects of the Guardsman's trade. Nearly all of Kain's energy was dedicated to his apprenticeship, and no one doubted that he was training to become the next Captain of the guards. Only rarely did he join the other three in play, now; his apprenticeship, further arms training, or devouring Drion's library inevitably occupied most of his time. Also, while before his emotions could be read with little difficulty, Kain's mood and thoughts hid behind a poker-face of calm geniality that would have made a master gambler proud. Erik couldn't remember the last time he had seen Kain express any kind strong emotion. The only person who seemed capable of infiltrating his barriers was Jaeden. And occasionally Kain would do something that made no sense, with no explanation, while a light in his eyes discouraged the curious from asking why.

One of Kain's strangest actions occurred on the sixth month anniversary of his parents' deaths, when he revisited his old home by himself and didn't return until the next morning: slightly haggard but still calm, and with blood still oozing from his newly-pierced right ear. One of Renée's favorite earrings, a silver half-globe with a dangling, thin, crystal octahedron, had become a permanent aspect of his appearance. Kain volunteered no justification for his actions, but Erik was fairly certain that Kain was deathly afraid of forgetting either of his parents, and the earring served as a solid memorial for his mother. Still, Erik figured there were probably better ways than making a hole in your ear by yourself, with nothing to numb the pain, but Kain seemed to have a high pain threshold. He was good at ignoring it.

– – – – –

So now the cold weather was finally coming to an end under the inexorable travel of time. Morning frost still clung stubbornly to the ground, though it was already two weeks into spring, but winter was fighting a losing battle. The sun rose early over Ryven, and its golden light spilled into the younger boys' room due to the fact that Jaeden had forgotten to draw the curtains the night before.

Erik lay in his bed, gazing a little sleepily at the carved wooden calendar on his bedside table. It had been a bornday present from Saidi last year when the older boy had still been apprenticed as a woodcarver, before his contract ended and he chose to work as a guardsman. Thirteen months of 28 days meant the calendar never changed, and Saidi had spent a lot of time adding details: a riot of vines framed the rectangle of individual day-blocks, which could be removed and replaced with special blocks for holidays and other special days, each with a different carving on its face. The month names were the same way, a differently carved name for each Moon.

With a smirk, Erik poked at today's date, the third Starsday and the 21st day of the Planting Moon — and Jaeden's bornday. The other boy had bragged a time or two about how he was going to be older than Erik again (only for two months, but two months _was_ two months), but he'd made no mention of having a bornday celebration. Erik doubted Jaeden expected one; Kain hadn't had a celebration, but Kain's bornday had been lost in the still unsettled few weeks directly after the bandit attack. So much the better, then, because while it had taken Erik weeks of collaborative scheming with the rest of his family, today Jaeden was in for a surprise.

With that resolve, Erik finally made it out of bed with a soft 'thump' against the wooden floor. The chilly morning air prompted him to quickly prepare for the day; as he headed for the stairs Erik waved at the bottom bunk of Jaeden and Kain's bed, knowing that even his low noise had alerted Kain's reflexes and woken him up. The older boy nodded as he passed, already looking far more awake and alert than Erik was.

Downstairs, Erik could hear a muted hubbub in the kitchen, and he dared to poke his head through the doorway. Issie saw him first and waved cheerily at him with flour-dusted hands (and hair, and clothes…). Her movements alerted Liessa, who looked up and smiled at him.

"Don't worry, son, it will be ready by the time Jaeden wakes; you have at least an hour, you realize? Now shoo, I can't be having with you underfoot. Go harass your father a bit instead," she laughed.

"Okay, mama," Erik replied with a grin. True to his word, he retreated to the living room and obsessively straightened up until Kain appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Kain watched him for a moment, then spoke. "Jaeden's still asleep. D'you want to finish our game while we wait?"

"Definitely! I _will_ beat you this time," Erik threatened cheerfully. "Come on, it was my turn next."

Erik led the way to the Library, where a chess game in-progress awaited their return. Both boys had been taught chess by their fathers, and possessed a similar level of skill. Erik's strategies favored feints and he could always give Kain a fierce competition, but no matter what he tried Kain's expert manipulations of the battlefield defeated him more often than not.

"Curses!" This game was no exception. Nearly an hour after they bent heads over the board, Erik had been checked and mated. He sighed and sat back in his chair, flicking his king on its side in acquiescence of defeat.

"It was a good game, though."

"Yeah. I almost had you a few times, there," Erik agreed with a smile. "I wonder if Jaeden's up yet?"

"Probably not. He always sleeps late on his bornday, because it's the one day he can get away with it."

Erik chuckled, but before he could reply there was a knock on the door. The two boys went together to open it, and found Suna and Toma waiting.

"Are we early?" Toma asked politely, brushing his bleach-blonde hair out of his eyes.

"No, come in," Erik invited. Because he and Kain didn't want to overwhelm Jaeden, they had limited the guest list to family, but Suna was such a close friend and Toma had spent so much time with them over the past few months that they both seemed like family anyway.

The two adults had barely settled themselves on the couch in the front room when the cry of "Suna!" came from the bottom of the stairs, and Dyani latched onto the woman in a firm side-hug.

"I'm so glad you were able to make it! Did you bring Jae a present? I bet it's a book, isn't it? I still write in the journal-book you gave me for my bornday, and none of the boys know where it is!" Dyani chattered on, her excitement for the day adding extra enthusiasm to her naturally friendly nature. Suna responded when appropriate, but she seemed to enjoy just listening to the girl speak. Erik had never fully understood when or how, but something had definitely formed a bond between the two. Leaving Kain to make pleasant, meaningless small talk with Toma, Erik retreated to his father's study and retrieved Drion from endless piles of paperwork. Eventually Pax and Saida arrived from whatever "adult-word" things they had been busy with, and Liessa made her entrance from the kitchen. The group visited together for a few minutes, waiting for Jaeden to make his appearance.

"Morning… What's going on?"

"Jaeden!" Dyani captured him in a massive hug, then brought him into the circle of people. "Surprise! Happy Bornday!"

Jaeden's expression was suitably stunned, and elicited smiles from the company as they either hugged him or gave him a friendly chuff of "manly affection." Then Dyani once more took charge, having been looking forward to this event for days. She had been hard-pressed to keep everything a secret, and Erik couldn't begrudge her the honour of playing ringmaster.

"Bornday Firstmeal is ready! Come on, Jaeden." She bounced off to the dining room, Jaeden being dragged behind her. The boy glanced over his shoulder with a bemused expression, to Erik's amusement. Dyani pointed Jaeden to Drion's usual chair at the head of the table, and the family gathered around the generous spread of Jaeden's favorite foods.

"Happy bornday, Jae," Kain began. "We," he indicated the others with a sweep of his arm, "decided that because you're ten years old today, you needed a proper celebration day. After firstmeal, we all have presents for you, and then it can be up to you, but today is yours."

"I…" For a moment, Jaeden-the-silver-tongued was at a loss for words, then he recovered his wits and gave the circle of people a brilliant smile. "Thanks."

Firstmeal was a pleasant, drawn-out affair of chatter and laughter, with many reminiscent stories about Jaeden and his life of mischievous escapades. Jaeden retorted (when he wasn't busy eating) with stories about mischiefs not perpetrated by him, which meant Erik was repeatedly embarrassed at being unmasked for several pranks long-forgiven but still remembered. But he did have to laugh when Jaeden reminded Kain about the time the two younger boys had managed to turn Kain's white-blonde hair a delicate shade of pink. It had been a beautiful sight, and Kain had gone around with a hat for days, until the berry-dye washed out.

When everyone was comfortably stuffed, Liessa worked with Issie and the other girls to clear the table, and the others disappeared to various part of the house to retrieve Jaeden's bornday gifts.

"Mine first!" Dyani declared, plopping a package wrapped in cloth on the table. Jaeden quickly removed the covering, revealing a hand-stitched pouch of deep blue cloth. "Mama helped me with the drawstring, but I made it myself. It's for keeping your money and treasures in. Do you like it?"

"It's great, Di. Thanks!" Jaeden ruffled her hair, which resulted in the ponytailed curls frizzing in uneven bumps against her scalp. She stuck out her tongue at him, quickly untying her hair ribbon and pulling her hair up into a ponytail again.

"Well, a pouch like that needs something to keep in it." Pax extended his hand, holding out a Kona. "Happy bornday, Jae."

Jaeden's eyes widened a bit. A Kona was worth twenty Aeds, and amounted to something near a small fortune among the town children. "Pax, did I ever tell you how cool you are?" Jaeden asked with a grin, reverently placing the coin in his new pouch.

"Here, Jaeden," Drion continued, handing over a box. "From Liessa and I."

Inside, a pocketknife rested on a new cloth shirt, and Jaeden thanked them happily, snapping the knife open and closed. Issie then darted out of the kitchen long enough to give Jaeden a gift from her and Dray, her older brother, which turned out to be a wooden top with a string-spinner. (Jaeden immediately careened the toy across the table, so that it flew off and crashed to the floor.)

Suna parted with her gift next: a hardcover book, engraved with Jaeden's name in the bottom-right corner, and inside the pages were blank. "I've seen you sketching here and there, usually in the dirt," she revealed with a smile. "I thought you might try preserving your work."

Jaeden gave her a shy smile in return, not having realized that anyone had ever seen his stick-in-the-dirt or charcoal-on-rock line drawings. The book joined the growing pile of his new possessions.

"Jaeden, this is from Saidi and I." Kain carefully pushed a heavy box across the table. Jaeden pulled off the lid, and with a surpised expression, pulled out a wood-inlaid chessboard with a complete set of hand-carved pieces. They were of fairly simple design, but obviously the product of time and care.

"Kain's been making that for months," Saidi interjected. "I only made the board and a piece or two, so that it would be done in time."

"I thought you might like your own set, so you don't have to try and play around mine and Erik's games," Kain offered quietly.

"And don't worry," Erik teased, "Kain and I will teach you some better strategies than your charging tactics. I bet Dyani could beat you, the way you play now."

"Hey!" Jaeden threw one of his new chess pieces at Erik, hitting him in the shoulder. "Dyani doesn't even _play_!"

"Exactly," Erik confirmed with a grin. "But anyway… oh." Abruptly, Erik realized that his and Toma's present was the only one left. "Here." He placed the cloth-wrapped object in front of Jaeden and waited nervously for how the other boy would react. Jaeden quickly stripped the cloth away, and then stopped dead, staring at the pocket-watch in his hands. He turned it over, and brushed a finger across the engraving on the back. _With love, Renée._ Kyr's watch.

"It was broken, but I remembered you once said you had been promised it, and thought I'd try and fix it. Toma's good with mechanisms and helped me put it back together." Erik paused. "Jaeden?"

"Thank you," Jaeden murmured gratefully, and Erik relaxed. Memories were important, and he was glad Jaeden was happier having the memento than saddened by the past. Jaeden re-wrapped the watch in its cloth and placed it in his pouch, then looked up with a smile. "Thanks for coming, Suna and Toma, and for the gifts, everyone." He beckoned to his friends. "Come on, you said I can decide what to do today, right? Let's go!"

The small party ended in laughter, and an admonishment from Liessa to return in time for midday. With Jaeden in the lead, the quartet left the house for a day of wandering, chatting, laughing, and playing. The evening ended with a few games of chess, and Jaeden even taught Dyani the rudiments of the game with his new set.

When the day finally ended, Erik crawled into bed with a satisfied smile. Jaeden had exuberantly enjoyed his surprise, Kain had spent a full day content to be in their company, Dyani had been able to gloat when Jaeden secretly let her win their chess match, and he… He was happy. Life was good.

– – – – –

AN: It _lives!_ Despite the fact that my computer's harddrive _ate_ this chapter when it was over halfway done, along with a lot of my notes. :grumbles about electronics:. I have not abandoned this fic, and still have no intentions of doing so. I just write slowly --;;.

Anyway, there are three new cameos, not counting people who have showed up in previous chapters. Skittles to whoever guesses them. :) Chapter 11's cameos were, in order: Issie – Liz/Unazuki, Madam Atri – Miss Haruna, and Sean – Shinozaki. Kudos and chocolate-covered coffee beans to those who guessed right. :D

I know I spend a lot of time in Ryven and Moire, but I promise to bring back Iris and Aislyn soon (as in, the next chapter should have them). It's just so much fun to show interactions, and Iris and Aislyn are both (sadly) rather isolated in their circumstances. But that will change, promise! Eventually… But hey, at least time is passing; it's been months since the bandit attack, and people are getting older.

Reviewer responses have been officially disallowed since November of '05; instead, I will be using the review reply function/email to reply to questions or comments that need a response. If not, please know that I read and adore every review I'm graced with, and thank everyone who has taken the time to do so from the bottom of my heart (For chapter 11, specifically Fire Lady and Moonrabbit04).

If you have questions about how this world is set up, feel free to ask, either in an email (amichan at arko dot net) or a review. I love getting mail, and will always answer a question. Cheers!

See you next time,

Ocianne

1/06

– – – – –


	13. Fur, Feathers, and Friends

– – – – –

Chapter Thirteen: Fur, Feathers and Friends

– – – – –

_547 Vende Dynasty (V.D.)_

–

Summer sun gleamed against glass windows and stone steps, heating the mid-morning air. Aislyn perched on the wooden railing that enclosed the landing outside the girls' dormitory hall, idly kicking her legs and lifting closed eyes to savor the warm brightness. A small bag rested on the ground behind her.

Leaning back until she was nearly perpendicular to the railing, a thought struck her and she grinned. Masculine clothes, sitting on dirty wood, carrying a weapon in plain sight (even if it was only a dagger on her belt), going _barefoot_… If any of her old noble-lady friends could see her now, they would probably suffer a heart attack from the sheer horror of it all. She might be at a school for the higher class and noblefae, but keeping male company for hours on end had effectively curbed any ladylike behavior. The most feminine thing about her was her waist-length hair, held back by a thin red ribbon. For a noble lady of relatively high rank, she was being scandalously improper. It was glorious.

"Aislyn! I thought you'd already gone. I was about to take off, myself."

Aislyn barely caught herself from falling off at Dierdre's abrupt appearance, and quickly pulled herself upright. Dierdre fairly bounced over to the railing, sporting a traveling pack and an exultant grin.

"Another term over, and two weeks to celebrate and laze before they can torture us again."

Aislyn chuckled. "But did you hear? They say that Ayn was kicked out of the Enforcers for insubordination, and might be coming back here to teach."

Dierdre flung an arm across her brow, striking a dramatic, mock-serious pose. "Save us! The only thing worse than being her student would be taking orders from Ayl."

"Cheer up, Dre. The headmaster would probably sic her on students younger than us, unless she became an assistant combat instructor or something similar."

Dierdre stuck out her tongue in an uncharacteristically childish action. "That does _not_ make me feel better, you know. Learning advanced combat from the likes of her is something to haunt my nightmares."

"You just didn't appreciate her conniving vindictiveness when you had the chance," Aislyn declared.

"I certainly appreciated its absence when she finally graduated, though." Dierdre paused, eyes narrowed against the sun, then pointed across the school's campus toward an approaching figure. "Hey, is that your escort, there?"

Aislyn shaded her eyes with her hand, following the direction of Dierdre's finger. When she focused on the man, a dazzling smile lit her face. Leaping the eight-foot drop from railing to ground without a second thought, she raced across the dirt with arms open wide.

"_Arten_!"

The taller man swept up her small frame and whirled her in a circle with an airy laugh. White hair made Dierdre think of ice and snow and cold, but his expression was warm as he returned Aislyn to the ground. She promptly grabbed his wrist and dragged him back toward the building, but he voiced no protests.

"Dierdre, I'm glad you waited. This is Arten. He's one of my father's assistants, and one of my good friends from home. Arten, Dierdre, one of my friends here."

Sharp blue eyes raked across her form, appraising. Dierdre leaned against the rail with her chin in her hand and raised an eyebrow coyly, ignoring the dangers latent in his gaze. The protective vibes he radiated in regards to his charge were so strong as to be quite amusing, especially since he didn't seem conscious of the fact.

"Do I pass?"

The corners of his lips quirked upwards slightly at the challenge. He shrugged, but she could read none of the thoughts within his mind.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Dierdre."

"And you, Arten." She inclined her head as a gesture of respect, acknowledging his greater age, power and experience.

"I should be going, though," she continued, looking at Ayslin. "My mother will be expecting me."

"All right. Have fun during Solstice!"

"Always," Dierdre laughed.

She leapt up onto the rail and hooked the short strap of her pack on one foot, crouching with arms outstretched and chin lifted high. The air around her blurred oddly for a moment, and then suddenly a great golden eagle with wings spread perched on the wood instead. The creature launched into the air with a triumphant cry and soared away to the east, clutching her pack in her talons.

Aislyn watched until the bird disappeared from sight, and sighed longingly. Arten glanced down at her.

"You're jealous?"

Aislyn climbed the step to retrieve her bag before answering, mostly to be able to look down at Arten again. She had grown a little over the past season, but he still surpassed her by a head. He remained where he was, facing the balustrade she had retreated behind while she sat cross-legged and let her forehead rest between two balusters.

"Dierdre has better mastery over her power than I do, and last season she graduated into the advanced magic division. Lesin doesn't even let us _think_ about second form until we've reached advanced." Aislyn scowled at Arten. "He says I don't have enough control."

Arten raised his eyebrows at the statement, but made no comment.

"I don't have time to practice, between classes and weapons," Aislyn went on, her young features rearranging into a well-practiced pout. "And I _know_ that if I had the chance, I'd be better than Dierdre ever could!"

"I have no doubt," Arten responded gravely, but the effect was ruined by the humor dancing in his eyes.

"Arten could you help me practice? I want to reach the advanced division by summer term, but I can't do it by myself. Please?" Aislyn consciously softened her features, subjecting Arten to the full power of her pleading expression. Arten shook his head resignedly, though the answer had always been and would always be, yes.

"Certainly, Aislyn. Are you ready to leave? Your father is anxious to see you."

Aislyn's mood immediately brightened. "I can't wait to get home!" She scrambled upright and slung her bag over her shoulder. "Four times a year is nowhere near often enough to visit."

"Indeed. We all miss you during your absences. Shall we?"

Arten bent over slightly in what seemed to be a queer sort of bow. A moment later a giant white-and-silver tiger padded forward in his place and yawned hugely, revealing an impressive set of sharp white teeth. Aislyn giggled and ruffled the fur between his ears, unafraid of the beast even though he stood as high as her shoulder. The great cat's eyes narrowed in response, but she paid him no mind and clambered up his back. Linking her arms around his neck, she rubbed her cheek against the soft fur.

"Riding on you almost makes up for not being able to change and having to be escorted home."

Arten's chuckle came out as a rumbling purr. "Almost, eh? I should throw you off just for that." The words were deeper and slightly distorted by the cat's mouth, but Aisyln had long been accustomed to deciphering such speech.

"Come on, Arten. Father is waiting. Let's run!"

Arten obligingly sprang forward in a flurry of fur and bunched muscles, and Aislyn's laughter drifted behind them as they raced away towards home.

– – – – –

After several hours of uninterrupted travel, their journey finally came to an end. The Aire manor rested deep in the countryside, a fair distance from either neighbors or the nearest settlement. Arten loped through the open manor gateway and across the large courtyard, passing over the steps with a negligent jump.

Aislyn sprang from his back and barged inside, ignoring the smattering of retainers who, under normal circumstances, were in charge of visiting guests. Several hallways and a flight of stairs later, Aislyn burst through the doors to Lord Aire's study, knowing he would be nowhere else.

"Father!"

Aire immediately looked up from the mass of papers spread across his desk, and stood.

"Aislyn! Welcome home."

Aislyn darted into her father's waiting arms and buried her face in his chest. Finally, after weeks of stress, worry, and lies, she could feel safe. Not even Arten could comfort her as well as Aire's simple presence.

"I'm so glad to be home," she murmured, though the words were lost into muffled unintelligibility. Pulling back slightly, she gazed up anxiously at her father's face. "There hasn't been any trouble, has there? I'm not caught? You're still safe?"

Aire smiled. "Yes, ladybird; I learned how to conceal my affairs quite well before you were even born, remember?"

"Yes, father, I do," she replied with a small smile. He said that every time she asked about his welfare, which she had done every visit for the past year — ever since he had revealed to her the reasons why he knew the old, lost stories that could get Aislyn killed if she dared speak of them to a person like Dierdre.

"How are the others? What news?" Aislyn settled herself on the edge of Aire's desk and he returned to his chair.

"Everyone is the same as always, and send you their greetings. Nothing has changed." Aire sighed. "I am sorry to disappoint you still, little one, but you must understand that your youth has an impetus none of our fellows have. We began by waiting and watching, and have done so for too long. To inspire action from them will require a spark, I fear, beyond even what you possess."

"How will anything ever happen, then?" Aislyn demanded hotly. "What if nothing ever changes?" Aire looked at her in concern and she paused, realizing what she sounded like. She bit her lip and looked at the floor.

"I'm sorry, father. I… I'm worried. I don't know if I can keep pretending for so long at a time. It's only two more years at school, but it won't be over then." Tears glistened in her eyes, despite her best efforts to hold them back.

"I chose this role before I realized what it all meant, and I can't stop, and I don't know if it will ever end. I don't have a 'when' that I can tell myself that it will all be over by. And father," the tears were leaking now, "I'm afraid that I'll get so caught up in who I'm _being_ that I'll forget what's true and what's false and who I actually _am!_"

Aire pulled Aislyn into his embrace, letting her release the tears and emotions that had been slowly building for the past few seasons.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm sorry you have to follow this life."

Aislyn said nothing, her body shuddering as she silently cried.

–

Aislyn's breakdown didn't last long; soon she regained control and wiped her eyes. "'M sorry," she apologized again.

Aire placed a hand on her cheek, tilting her face upward to look at him. "You are so brave to do this, Aislyn. There is no need for an apology. I'm proud of you, and I believe in your abilities."

Aislyn responded with a half-hearted smile, but she was listening.

"I know that you will be able to end your façade someday, and you are strong enough to remain true to your beliefs, even if you can't always remember your reasons why. And I will always be here to support the young lady you truly are."

"Thank you, father," she whispered. They sat in silence for a short time, before Aislyn spoke again. "Could you tell me the stories again? I don't want to forget them, and become someone like Dierdre."

Aire nodded, familiar with the other Fae girl. "Fear not, child," he said with a smile. "Even should you forget all you know, your nature is incapable of holding such hate."

"I wonder why she does," Aislyn wondered, distracted by the thought. "She's never said, and I've never wanted to ask."

"There may be a reason," Aire conceded, "or there may not be. No one but she can answer that."

"I'll find out someday, I suppose. But please, the stories? They start to fade after a while."

"Let us begin with one tale, for now. We have time to remember them not all at once, and I believe you also have many other things to do ere the day ends. So, when the Creator had molded the world and placed our two races upon its surface, he charged us with the duty of peacefully co-existing. There were no difficulties at first, but as many years passed, jealously began to grow between them in regards to the other race's unique traits …"

– – – – –

To her surprise, by the time Aislyn left Aire's study the day had already reached early evening. She barely had time to enter her room and unpack the few possessions she brought with her everywhere before the dinner bell summoned her to eat. Aire always took his meals in his study, but when she could Aislyn enjoyed eating with the manor's staff, most of whom she had known all of her life.

Everyone expressed their joy for her visit home, and the cook had even prepared a masterpiece of chocolate confectionary for dessert. The cook's daughter, Kari, had also returned home from her own school for the seasonal break, and the two friends spent most of the dinner relaxing, catching up with their lives, and indulging in a full-on gossip session. Aislyn enjoyed dinner so much that she forgot her earlier discussion with Arten, and looked up at him in surprise when he left his place at the table and came to loom behind her chair.

"Have you forgotten already? You asked me to train your magic. With only two weeks, I'm not about to waste even a day." He pulled her chair away from the table with her still in it, and extended a hand. "Come."

Aislyn bade the company farewell, and followed Arten through the rear gardens and a concealed passage in the walls to his preferred training grounds just outside the estate. Watching him, as he prowled around the perimeter of their clearing to ensure their safety and privacy, Aislyn briefly wondered if asking him for help had been such a good idea after all.

Arten was tall for a Fae, lean and intimidating. She had seen him demonstrate his skill in the past; his confidence was well deserved, because under any circumstances, Arten could be dangerous.

"Show my what you can do," he commanded, every inch the teacher. "We'll work from there."

Aislyn reached in her mind for the heart of her power, and drew it out. Deciding to humour his love of method and order, she began with the simplest of tricks and worked her way up through the more complicated exercises. When she finished, he gave her a curt nod.

"You _do_ have talent, but Lesin is right. Your work is sloppy, you see?"

He raised a hand and mimicked Aislyn's performance, but each working was faster, smoother, and more precise. She watched, mesmerized, as the air seemed to dance under his command.

"To achieve this level of control, you must practice directing your power until manipulating it is second nature. When you truly master your potential, a simple work will seem no different than breathing."

"Like you?"

Arten gave her a small, tight smile that she couldn't interpret. "Similar, yes. Now, begin again, and focus. Work slowly."

For the next several hours, Arten worked Aislyn to exhaustion. Encroaching night failed to even garner a pause for her; Arten lit the three standing torches at the edges of the clearing as she practiced. Only when a miniature whirlwind began to waver did he relent and call a stop. With the last of her momentum gone Aislyn felt like she could barely move, and she shuffled over to lean against him, closing her eyes muttering about sadistic teachers sharing their teaching techniques. He made no reply, simply wrapping an arm around her shoulders to better guide her steps. In the end, he half-directed, half-carried her as he led her through the manor to her set of rooms.

"Good night, Aislyn. Pleasant dreams."

She smiled up at him, sleepily. Her brain was already starting to muddle, and ramble unselfconsciously to herself. He really _was_ one of her best friends, even when he didn't listen to her tired complaints and completely depleted her energy reserves. Almost like the big brother she'd never had.

"Thanks, Arten. But next time, can it not hurt this much? Night."

She stumbled inside and shut the door behind her before he could formulate a response. As she put on her sleeping clothes, she could almost see his typical philosophical shrug that would have occurred in the pause before his steps retreated down the hallway.

Blessing whoever built the fire blazing in her fireplace, Aislyn collapsed into bed and curled up under several layers of blankets. Even during summer the nights were chilly, and Aislyn despised the cold.

"Two weeks of exhaustion," she mumbled around a yawn, already falling asleep. "I really hope this works."

– – – – –

AN: Woohoo, a relatively fast update – it would have been even faster, if I had a consistent beta. Ah, well. Anyone interested in the job? More of Aislyn to come, because I'm currently fixated on her character and arc. Next chapter will have what happens back at school during autumn session, and might have Iris, too.

Two cameos for this chapter. I didn't even plan on bringing them in, either; they each showed up in the middle of a thought while I was writing and refused to go away.

For reviewers, I have this spiffy chocolate fountain to taste from. Please review, because I'd _really_ like know what people think.

This note is also an addendum in the first chapter: The dates refer to two different dating systems, which correspond to the same year. The Terien Monarchy is the human calendar, and the Vende Dynasty is the Fae calendar. Which system is used depends on which civilization the scene takes place in. The dates are used for the purposes of keeping track of the passage of time as the characters grow up, since its awkward to try and insert ages everywhere. The first chapter began in TM 112 and 543 VD.

See you next time,

Ocianne

2/06

– – – – –


	14. Well THAT Was Unexpected

– – – – –

Chapter Fourteen: Well, **_that_** was unexpected…

– – – – –

_547 Vende Dynasty (V.D.)_

–

Two weeks passed quickly in her father's country home, and before she knew it Aislyn had arrived back at the school. After seeing Arten off she hurriedly unpacked her travel bag and headed to the faculty building, intent on finding Lesin. She didn't even care if he was in his rooms and not in his office. Luckily, she found him in his office, skimming a sheaf of documents and swearing under his breath about paperwork.

She knocked against the doorframe and he looked up sharply, dark eyes made darker by his typical irritated glare.

"Permission to enter, sir?"

"Granted," Lesin growled. "What do you want?"

Steeling herself, Aislyn took a deep breath and took the seat in front of his desk. "I want to take the examinations for advanced level magic."

A harsh laugh erupted from Lesin's throat. "I told you at the end of last session that you haven't the control, girl. What makes you think two weeks will have made a difference?"

"I've been training," Aislyn replied, gritting her teeth. Lesin wasn't quite cruel, but he was unapologetically a man of sharp edges. "Hard. I want to take the exam."

Lesin ran a critical eye over her form. She sat stiffly, glaring as best she could at his face. Finally, he seemed to make a decision and shoved his papers out of the way.

"I'll take any excuse to stop this _kreshed _paperwork. Come on."

Aislyn followed him to the training grounds with a relieved smile. As long as she could pass this, when the session started tomorrow she could start the advanced magic classes, and that meant working in a specialized class with someone who _wasn't Lesin_. There were simply too many classes for him to run them all. Instead, a handful of well-trained Fae taught advanced work once Lesin was satisfied that he had satisfactorily pounded the basics into his pupils' heads.

Lesin planted himself at the edge of the dirt training field, motioning Aislyn onto it and crossing his arms.

"When I give the required working, I expect no delays. Real combat offers no such luxury."

"I understand." She also realized that Lesin expected workings useful for offense or defense, not a neutral creation like her favorite light-sparkles. If he wanted light, she would have to make the air glow along the lines of a flashburn. Fine. If he wanted to smell ozone, so be it.

Lesin grunted noncommittally. "I still give you an icicle's chance of surviving an inferno. Begin — heat."

Aislyn raised a hand with the first two fingers upright, the position she had found helped most in focusing her concentration. With the help of a gesture, she raised the temperature of the air around his hand to be hot enough to burn. He moved the appendage away in an instant and inspected its reddened skin, but gave no reaction on his face.

"Light."

True to her decision, Aislyn forced a surge of power at a vertical plane of airspace between them, and covered her eyes with an arm just in time to avoid temporary blindness.

"Dust devil."

With no time to pause, Aislyn twitched her hand while still covering her eyes. A wind funnel rose from the dirt, picking up the dusty ground and flinging it in Lesin's direction.

Lesin continued biting out commands and Aislyn rushed to keep up with them, mindful of Arten's training towards control.

Precise gestures. Minimal energy. And never let him see how hard it is.

At last he fell silent, and Aislyn stopped. She watched his face, tense with anticipation. The critical look in his eye remained, and Aislyn's stood straight and silent, not daring to interrupt his deliberations.

"You've certainly been working, at the very least." After an excruciating pause, he turned and began walking away. Aislyn's mouth dropped open. Not even an evaluation?

"Start moving, girl!" Lesin barked gruffly over his shoulder. "You need to find that idiot Fleurs and tell him that you'll be in his class group this session. Become his problem, not mine!"

Aislyn froze for a moment, eyes wide. Taking off at a dead run, she quickly passed Lesin on the path to the faculty building. She paused at the door, waved, called a heartfelt "Thank you!" and disappeared inside to see if Fleurs was in his office.

Summer session was going to turn out well after all.

–

Three weeks later, Aisyln wasn't so sure any more. Fleurs drilled the students mercilessly, and even practicing extra with Dierdre left Aislyn feeling permanently in danger of being in over her head. She felt like only sheer luck ensured that she managed to survive both advanced magic and weapons in addition to the usual academic work.

Exhausted, she dragged herself from her last class to the smaller training field where Fleurs held sway every afternoon. Hope bolstered her energy, however - Fleurs had mentioned second forms during the last session. If they were lucky then today they might actually get permission to determine their second forms. It was an important decision to make, because an unknown genetic factor restricted Fae to a single form shift of another species. Still, most Fae had pondered their choices since they were old enough to know about it, and already knew their preferred form.

Slumping on the ground, Aislyn tried to calm her nerves as she watched her groupmates chatter and work off anticipatory tension. Everyone was hoping Fleurs would teach them, but her stomach was twisting in knots for another reason. Already fourteen, and she still hadn't made up her mind about her second form.

There were simply too many experiences she wanted to have that only her other-form could give. For a long time Aisyln had been inclined toward a horse, with the prospect of feeling the wind whipping through her hair and the pounding of hooves on earth. Then three years ago Dierdre had related one of her cousin's descriptions about the sensation of true flight – no magic, just the sun above, the landscape below, and the rush of air beneath your wings.

It was very, very tempting.

"Class, _attention!_"

Aislyn started to her feet on pure reflex, nerves and muscles reacting before her conscious mind even processed the words. Fleurs was there at the edge of the field, a friendliness in his smile that belied his strictness as a teacher. The dozen students immediately spread out across the training field, ready and waiting.

"Quicker, next time, if you please. Today we'll begin second-forms. This will occupy your full attention for the next eight weeks and beyond, do you understand?"

He began to walk as he lectured them, prowling back and forth like a hunter watching his prey.

"Choosing a form is the easy part. Relearning basic movement and coordination will be your true challenge. If you are lucky, by this session's end-exams you will be able to move smoothly, and attain permission to change outside of this class period. Before then, the chance of injuring yourself or your peers is overwhelming. Transformation previous to this licensure will merit serious punishment."

Fluers' lips formed a parody of a smile; his eyes were deadly serious. "Among other things, you'll be demoted back to beginning magic under Lesin for at _least_ two school sessions, or until he thinks you've gained the intelligence to match your strength. And believe me, he won't be happy to learn that he promoted someone who couldn't handle the responsibility yet."

A shudder ran through the class. Aislyn glanced at the trio of fae who usually ran the gauntlet of Fleurs slow-boil temper. The leader, Tieg, had the thoughtfully narrowed eyes of one who was planning to break the rules and get away with it. Haku was trying to catch Fiche's eye to mutter something, but the spaced-out distance was impeding his efforts.

Aislyn stifled a groan, imagining the mischief already being planned. More often than not, she had the dubious honor of being victim. And they were getting _good_ at covering their tracks. She glared at them out of the corner of her eye. _I hope you're caught and get set a back by a full year! _

Ignoring the reaction of his students, Fleurs continued in his lecture and straight on through the basic steps of second-form. Aislyn and the others followed along.

First came the quiet of the mind, almost a blanking of the thoughts, then finding that internal spark of magic that ran along her veins and rested behind her eyes. Before doing anything else, Fleurs was insistent that the students know their desired form. Supposedly, an indecisive student had once become a useless amalgamation of fur and feathers; another lost himself in the change and slipped into a coma.

Warning over, he continued the explanatory demonstration. Grab the spark, and make something within go _twist_. Aislyn saw in her head what Fleurs was explaining and eagerly responded. There was the tingle in here mind _there_, so touch it with thought and pull it _this_ way…

Aislyn abruptly realized what she had begun just as the overwhelming feeling of loss-of-self took over. She was holding the ideas of both horse and eagle in her consciousness. Her body was starting to tear itself apart in this millisecond of non-self that was stretching on and on.

_No! I **will not** be lost here! Dierdre would never let me hear the end of it, let alone Arten, if I lost myself like this…_

Consciousness faded and instinct took over, moving magic and thought and control in ways Aislyn had never even dreamed about, all in the work of a moment. An instant after her panicked transformation began, Aislyn found herself standing just where she had been, watching Fleurs. The only exception was a pervasive numbness. And Fleurs was staring right back at her.

_Wait a minute… didn't he used to be taller?_

"_Bisht!_"

Aislyn heard a student behind her swear, and Fleurs seemed to be trying to say something. Her nerves were starting to work again as well, letting sensations start to seep back into her brain. Head, shoulders, two arms, four legs —

Four legs?

Aislyn looked down, then over her shoulder, then back at Fleurs, letting her jaw drop open. She had to be in second-form, but it made no _sense_! From the waist up she was still human, complete with tunic. And from the waist down…

"Creator, Aislyn," Fiche breathed from her right, his young voice nearly cracking in disbelief. "You're a nurned_ Centaur!_"

The other students, already fae again, gathered around her and Fleurs in a loose circle.

"I thought second-forms with fae parts were a myth," whispered one of the other boys, watching her in awe.

Fleurs finally found his voice. "They have been, for a very, very long time."

"But —"

Aislyn stepped toward him unthinkingly, and immediately lost her balance as forelegs advanced and hind legs remained immoble. Her arms proved useless for regaining equilibrium, and as she desperately tried to keep from falling, another set of extremities snapped outward.

Fleurs cleared his throat, eyeing the new development. "My dear, when this is over you and I are going to have a long talk about decisiveness."

A pair of massive wings had previously been folded tightly against her sides, inconspicuous compared to the oddity of simply a normal centaur. Now they were unfurled to their full length, having narrowly missing several of her groupmates in the process.

Aislyn remained frozen, unwilling to move her unfamiliar limbs again for fear of what else might surprise her. Desperate for a semblance of normality to return, she grasped her magic and pulled at it again. The air blurred, and she crumpled to the ground, completely drained from the strain on her body, mind, and magic all at once.

_Thank the Creator for normal legs…_

Letting the darkness sweep over her, Aislyn fainted.

–

"You're telling me that she melded aspects of three forms into one, and one of those is _Fae_?"

Dierdre's incredulous voice was the first thing Aislyn heard as she regained consciousness. Eyes still closed, she let her other senses filter information. The odor of medicinal herbs, the muffled sound of controlled chaos, and a bed that felt like it could rival sheetrock. She was definitely a resident of the medical wing.

"Yes, I am."

That voice was only vaguely familiar; she'd heard it before, but not often. Male, deepening from adolescence, smooth, and confident without cockiness. Not one of the infamous Trio, then, but they were unlikely to visit her in the med-ward in the first place. Curiosity overcoming her lethargy, Aislyn cracked one eye open to spy on her companions.

There was Dierdre to the right, sitting in a bedside chair with arms crossed and an incredulous look on her face. She wasn't paying much attention to the bed, so didn't notice Aislyn's movement.

"She's awake."

Aislyn turned her head toward the boy, then winced in pain from the sudden movement.

"Lan'n?" Her throat caught, dry and scratchy.

"Whoa there, girl," Dierdre protested. Helping Aislyn sit up a little, she handed over a cup of water. Aislyn sipped it gratefully, watching her unexpected guest.

"What're you doing here?"

Landon smiled in an irksomely superior way. "After you fainted I told Fleurs I'd take you here, so he could keep training everyone else."

"Which conveniently gave him an excuse to skip the rest of the lesson himself, of course," Dierdre interjected.

"I'm not about to complain. I have my second form, and missing a few hours of instruction in moving around on four legs won't kill me."

"Why stay?" Aislyn interrupted the exchange. She grimaced, not having meant to sound rude but unable to say it any differently.

"At first, in case you woke up before someone else showed up," he waved a hand at Dierdre. "Then because she wouldn't let me leave without telling her what happened. We had just finished that when you woke up, because she hasn't been here long."

"That's right, make it sound like I don't care," Dierdre said irritably. She tapped Aislyn's temple to grab her attention, then explained the horrible series of delays that had conspired to keep her away for nearly the entire afternoon. Aislyn listened, grateful for the distraction from the more pressing circumstances. Unfortunately, she couldn't avoid them for long.

"So that's it," Dierdre concluded. "I got here, and Landon told me an outrageous story about your second-form, which I still don't believe, by the way. What actually happened?"

"Um…" Aislyn look to Landon for help. Raised eyebrows denoted a distinct lack of assistance from that arena. "From what you said when I woke up, I think he was right. It's kind of hazy, but I remember trying to do too much, and panicking, then being whatever you call what I became. Didn't Fiche call me a centa, Landon?"

"Centaur. It's an ancient mythical creature, so I'm not surprised you aren't familiar with it."

Landon leaned forward in his chair, finally looking interested in the conversation. Aislyn made a mental note that this particular classmate seemed to enjoy myths. Maybe he even knew some of the real versions of old history. But she couldn't do anything with that idea, and he was continuing to speak with much more pertinent information.

"Fiche obviously knows a little, but he was only half-right. A centaur is just horse and fae combined, and you had wings. I don't think I've ever heard of something like that, actually." A smile ghosted across his face – a real one, not the smirk Aislyn usually during training sessions. "I think you created a new species."

Aislyn let out a small squeak, half from surprise and half from Dierdre's grip on her shoulders tightening painfully.

"But how could she do that? I mean, no offense Ais," Dierdre offered an apologetic look, "but while I know you have some talent, I didn't think you could do the impossible."

"Fleurs didn't say much after she fainted. He was just as surprised as anyone else, because wondergirl here didn't give us any warnings either about her abilities or her uncertainty."

"That's because I didn't _know!_" Aislyn burst out. "Lesin said I had some potential, but he didn't say anything more about it! He was always ragging on me about control. Maybe this was why," she added bitterly. "Trying to keep me from doing something this idiotic."

"Why are you complaining?" Landon demanded, brown eyes turning hard. "You made a mistake when you didn't tell Fleurs you were indecisive, but you've done the impossible and made something greater than anyone's ever seen. You've proven you've got a lot to give — what's so bad about pushing yourself and trying to find your limits? Or are you afraid of the attention, or maybe you turned lazy with your magic?"

"Don't you _dare_," Aislyn hissed angrily, eyes narrowing. "Don't you dare accuse me of being lazy or a coward. I worked hard to get where I am. Even if my second-form is ungainly and useless, I'll work around it. I'm going to be the best there is."

Landon's face abruptly cleared, good humor returning. "Good. I know you can be one of the best. I just wanted to make sure _you_ did."

"You — you're impossible!"

"And you're unobservant," Landon retorted mildly. "A lot of power went into that second form of yours. What makes you think the wings will hinder you when you run, or the horse's body when you try to fly?"

"But it was all so massive. I felt too heavy to move! Why wouldn't one part get in the way of the others?"

"Have you ever heard of the Pegasus?" Aislyn shook her head. "It's the name of a winged horse, which could both run and fly without a second thought. You'll have one more set of limbs than him, but with enough practice I'm positive that you could move just as easily as Dierdre's form, whatever it is."

"It's an eagle," Dierdre proclaimed haughtily, not unreasonably. Flying forms were far more difficult than land animals, and she had mastered the shape in good time.

"Oh, so you're why Aislyn went tripartite."

Dierdre straightened instantly, incensed. "How dare you say that!"

"Aislyn's wings may be the same cream color as her coat and immense to boot, but they needed inspiration from somewhere. You're an eagle. I'm sure you've had enough rudimentary logic to be capable of reaching a conclusion."

Aislyn had also noticed similar mercurial dispositions in Landon and her friend, a temperament that tended to be exacerbated when provoked. Landon seemed to enjoy being provocative.

Before Dierdre could launch over the bed at her target, Aislyn grabbed the older girl's wrist, shaking her head. "Stop it, Dre. Landon, thanks for bringing me here, but you should probably go. I'm sure you have other classwork, and Dierdre can find a nurse to tell me I don't need to stay here. I want a nap in my own bed before I finish the rest of my work. I will think about everything you said, though."

"As you command, lady-fair." Landon bowed in a mockery of formal behavior, then headed out the door. "Don't forget to decide what you want to call yourself," he called over his shoulder. "Like I said, I think you created a new species."

"Boys!" Dierdre growled once he was gone. "Insufferable creatures, the lot of them."

"Mm," Aislyn agreed absently. "Could you get a nurse, Dierdre? I'll get a lecture if I find one myself."

Dierdre acquiesced, leaving Aislyn to ponder everything Landon had told them. When she looked past the barbs, there really was a lot of useful information.

"I think," she said finally to the room at large, "if I truly manage to master it, I'll give it a name in celebration. But not before."

-

Training under Fleurs became the most difficult and frustrating part of Aislyn's education, but she found a good deal of satisfaction as well. The second day she could only change and maintain the more draining form for the entire session, watching as the other students hobbled, stumbled, limped, and fluttered about the field. By the next week, she could differentiate between all the extra sensations and organize twice as many limbs, enough to take her first halting steps.

Landon had thrown a cocky grin her way at that point. Rather, the stag that was Landon had bared its teeth at her, head tilted at an angle of inquisitive satisfaction. She couldn't really hold it against him, though. He'd been right about her form. Difficult to master, certainly, but not a useless monster like she had first thought.

Movement gradually quickened as her mind adjusted to an alternate body and began reacting accordingly. Four legs was simple enough, so long as she didn't try to use her _other_ limbs at the same time. By the end of eight weeks she could transition between walk, canter, jog, and dead-run in horse's hooves. In the end-session exam she even managed to open her wings against the wind to pull off nearly an instant stop.

Fleurs had smiled when she pulled it off, and promised intensive focus on flying for her once the next session started up. Once she could properly fly she'd learn how to transition between modes of transportation, and then she could learn how to do something like wield a sword without getting her legs all tangled up in the process.

Better than that, he granted her permission for out-of-class transformation. Ayslin had never been happier when Arten arrived at school to bring her home. His face when confronted with her still-unnamed species of centaur was priceless. Until then she hadn't believed he knew how to look shocked.

And now, she could finally stand taller than he did.

– – – – –

A gusty breeze swept around the cottage in defiance of the summer sun's heat. From the orchard beyond the cottage's fence and the further removed forest, the trees trembled in a chorus of leaf-songs. Occasionally a leaf swirled over the fence and landed among the growing garden plants along its edge.

One in particular settled beside a sunbathing rabbit. Ears twitched and her nose wrinkled, but otherwise Iris didn't bother moving. Summer was drawing to a close, and the autumn sun never warmed the dirt in quite the same way. She wanted to enjoy herself as much as possible before it ended.

At her side was a fellow lump of fur, this one a fuzzy black. It yawned, revealing a tiny blood-red mouth full of teeth, and blinked amber eyes against the sunlight. Seeing nothing interesting, the young cat curled up again for another nap.

"Midday is ready, Iris," Miki called from inside. "We can eat outside if you like, but you need to come collect your food."

Reaching into her mind, Iris touched the familiar shock of power and just like mama had taught, pulled and twisted and shoved

_There._

Iris quickly adjusted to her fae form's longer limbs and colored sight. It had been nearly a year since mama had taught her the animal-change, and letting her form morph from one to another had become almost as natural as breathing. This one was her favorite, though.

"Coming, mama," she replied. "Come on, Mau." She picked up the kitten, marveling again at how in just a few months her pet had grown from barely filling her hands to sitting comfortably in her arms.

"Mau," the cat protested, loathe to be moved. Iris scratched her behind the ears as she mounted the stairs to the back door and headed to the kitchen.

"The yard is wonderful warm, mama. Can we make it a picnic?"

"All right. Take your food, and I'll get a blanket." Miki smiled.

Together they carried food and an old blanket outside to spread on the grass. Mau followed behind, tail waving in interest at the smell of food.

"Will papa be home soon?" Iris asked hopefully. Aran had been gone for almost a month, a combination of hunting and news-seeking. Such long trips occurred rarely, and Miki was glad for it. Iris grew restless when he was gone.

"I think so. I know he's missing you, so he'll be back as soon as he possibly can."

"Goodie!" Iris laughed, teasing Mau with a shred of fishmeat. The cat batted at her hand, trying to reach the treat. "Do you think he'll bring something nice home with him? Maybe a friend for Mau?"

"Maybe." Miki's non-committal answer went unnoticed by Iris' distractible attention span. Aran had a soft spot for strays and those who were helpless; Iris had had a fair amount of pets, although most were wild at heart and lived beyond the cottage's outskirts, appearing only for an occasional meal. Mau was one of the first to stay so close, probably because Aran had found her so young.

The afternoon passed in a pleasant sense of quiet peace. Miki watched Iris and Mau play together, willing to let lessons slide in favor of such a beautiful day. Routine was all well and good, but some things took precedence.

Like the sound of laughter, echoing the nearby rhythm of water over stones. Like the chance to watch a child full of light and innocence see the small wonders in the world. To see the world through her eyes, when she brought those wonders back. And to know that here, hope remained safe, sleeping until the time came to wake.

TBC.

– – – – –

I finished this fic on my birthday and wanted to post it, but had no beta, and no internet. :sigh: Well, this is my belated birthday gift from me to all of you. I feel like a hobbit.

A little bit of Iris, and probably another scene soon. Will Aran bring something home this trip:) Sorry for any who want more of Iris/Usa, but she has less life-changing events. She's important, but the story revolves much more closely around the other characters right now. (As you can see, a little inspiration bug bit my Mina-muse, and wouldn't let me go.)

Four cameos this chapter, and a fifth name-twisting but I'm not sure if I actually borrowed his personality. Last chapter's cameos were Arten-Artemis and Kari-Hikaru (Ami look-alike friend of Mina's from Sailor V). Dierdre still hasn't finalized herself as a cameo (if she is one) and Landon is unquestionably Nephrite. Chocolate-chip coolies to everyone who guessed right.

About four years have passed in this story since it began, and time is flowing ever onward. I don't think it plans on pausing particularly often, either. I think I'm finally starting to see the rhythm of the story. Here's hoping, at least.

For some reason I can really see Nephrite pushing Mina to do her best. It's something he probably picked up from hanging with the other boys (if they were in the real world), because he seems balanced in that respect. Jadeite would either be spread out among lots of fields or completely lazy, depending on which portrayal you chose; Zoisite will be a genius on a few things to the point of ignoring everything else; and Kunzite would need reigning back from his obsessive perfectionist tendencies toward what he thinks is important (i.e., almost everything). Nephrite is the right guy for being "Jack of all trades, master of one." (Which _is_ the proper quote, btw.) He'll be balanced, overall, with a few specialties. And the whole point of that rant was to justify Landon providing Aislyn with something to push against after her perceived setback, to get her back on her feet and moving towards her goals.

I may actually understand Nephrite's character, someday. Huzzah. :)

Hellos to everyone who still reads this fic, especially the lurkers; I've never quite understood what quality in fics leaves people without motivation to review, but I've experienced it myself enough to know that it happens. Hail and well met:) Hope you're enjoying this, because I know I am.

That's all for now. See you next time!

Ocianne

4/06

– – – – –


	15. A Day in the Life

– – – – –

Chapter Fifteen: A Day in the Life

– – – – –

_T.M. 116_

Tarai swept the cobblestones in front of the jewelry stall industriously, humming a cheerful nonsense tune. Kayamé had the position behind the table until mid-morning, and sat watching the passing street traffic with the air of an experienced salesgirl. Due to the street being a convenient shortcut between two major thoroughfares, they saw all sorts of passersby going about their business. In all likelihood, Kayamé was calculating probabilities of someone stopping to browse, buy, or attempt to steal. They had decent experience with all three scenarios.

They were lucky there were two of them, because if anyone unpleasant stopped by, one could retrieve Emmaline from the house while the other stalled the visitor. Tarai still wasn't sure how she did it, but the sight of Emmaline with a grim face and a large stick in hand was enough to deter even the more suspicious customers. For lack of a better description, it was as if the woman's aura changed, or a curtain of cheerful goodwill were pulled back to reveal something that could be extremely dangerous if unleashed. Tarai was only glad that Emmaline had never had cause to turn that face on her or Kayamé.

Regardless of any unpleasant possibilities, Tarai remained firmly ensconced in her good mood. According to her calculations, in three days she would be celebrating her tenth-year bornday. She and Kayamé hadn't known their borndays when Ghenn and Emmaline took them in, so the couple had let them choose a day to celebrate. Kayamé loved the spring and chose a day under the Rain Moon, while Tarai loved the weather and colors of fall, choosing a day under the Harvest Moon. As an added bonus, she had settled on her bornday as the day she and Kayamé first met their guardians three years ago. No matter how much time passed, it was something she never, ever, wanted to forget.

Approaching footsteps caused Tarai too look up. A young man in traveling clothes looked curiously at the pair of them, pausing on his way through the narrow street.

"What type of shop is this?"

"Good morning, sir," Kayamé responded politely. "These are the trinkets of craftsman Ghenn. If you would care to look, we have many kinds of jewelry and other small pieces of workmanship."

"Jewelry, eh?"

Tarai stepped out of the way, allowing him access to the displayed collection. He smiled and bent his much taller frame to accommodate the overhanging cloth, lifting a bracelet to examine the clear and colored glass. After several minutes of browsing under Kayamé's guidance, a pair of earrings caught his attention: small roses in full bloom, each glass petal tinted a shade of pale pink.

"These are exquisite," he remarked in a tone of voice approaching awe. "How does he make them?"

Tarai smiled slightly. Most new customers asked some variation of that question. At least it was Kay's turn to answer this time.

"It's a method of melting and connecting glass, sir. I don't rightly know how he adds color."

"Truly a rare art. I've never seen the like."

"Ghenn is the master of his craft," Kayamé agreed proudly. "No one else in the city can do half so well, and lots have tried."

"I'm sure they have. I have a little sister about your age," the man went on, "and she's been really looking forward to when she can pierce her ears in a few months. Do you think she'd like these?"

Tarai blinked. First-time customers rarely showed much respect for them, given their age and gender. Even repeat patrons tended to remain condescending in the infuriating way only adults knew how to cultivate, and few ever bothered to ask for advice.

"Um, yes," Kayamé answered. "I think she would. Perhaps you might also like to buy a gift for," she hesitated uncertainly for only a moment, "someone special to you, or perhaps your mother if she is blessed to be among the living?"

The man chuckled ruefully. "You're probably right. Mother would never let me hear the end of it if I gave Dyani something so elegant and left her out. What do you have fitting for a family matriarch?"

Kayamé couldn't resist interrupting her attempts at playing the dignified and respectful shopkeeper, and responded with an impish grin. "Perhaps a necklace, then. She'll be able to show it off anytime she likes, if the design is simple enough."

"Very perceptive of you, young miss. How much would these cost?" He picked out a pendant on a cord and placed it beside the earrings.

Kayamé inspected them, and looked up at the overhang blocking her view of the sky as she performed some mental calculations. She had picked up enough arithmetic to price their merchandise herself, a complement to Tarai's slowly growing assertiveness, so that either could work the shop alone if business was slow, or sell together if multiple customers happened to come by.

After a short silence she named a sum that caused the young man to raise a skeptical eyebrow. "Do you want to make me penniless?"

Kayamé's smile was only halfway apologetic. "Ghenn is the best there is, sir."

"Such is my hope." He appeared to perform some estimations of his own, then nodded. "I'll take them. I'll just have to rely on my marksmanship for dinner for the next few days," he added with a grin, and handed over the necessary coins.

"Creator's blessing on your bow and eye, then," Tarai interjected politely, feeling obliged to say _something_. He was too pleasant to allow him to disappear with so much as speaking to him; kind people remained a rare commodity in the streets of Moire.

"My thanks. May he watch over you as well, and should I come this way again I'll be certain to come and visit. So you don't forget me, my name is Saidi." He gave them a kind of half-bow, and vanished down the street with his purchases.

Tarai perched on the second stool behind the table and stared thoughtfully in the direction he had gone. "He seemed nice enough. I hope his sister likes her present."

"He was decent." Kayamé indicated a younger, scruffier youth sidling down the street with a subtle gesture of her chin. "That one could be trouble."

"Mm." Tarai became quietly alert, waiting to see if anything would need to be done. He looked oddly familiar, but there were countless boys in the city with black hair and blue eyes set in a narrow face. Smudges of dirt adorned one cheek and the bridge of his nose. His clothes were of unexpectedly high quality and cleanliness for a Streets child, though faded and worn from constant wear.

The boy stopped beside the stall, sizing them up briefly. "I heard the old man here does jobs for rich folk. Does he need a delivery boy right now?"

The girls exchanged glances. "I'll go ask," Tarai murmured, and vanished into the house.

Kayamé put her chin in her hand and leaned against the table, unabashedly staring at the strange boy. He met her gaze firmly. They commenced a silent battle of the wills, neither willing to give in and look away, until Tarai returned with Ghenn in tow. The boy seemed to smirk at Kayamé in acknowledgment of similarly dominant personalities, and she nodded slightly.

"Tarai tells me you are looking for work?" Ghenn inquired.

"If you've got any." The boy shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Time is money. I've got the time, you've got the money."

"What's your name, young man?"

After some hesitation, he grudgingly admitted to answering to Mal.

"Well, Master Mal, I have two recently completed pieces which my customers have not collected yet. You will need to clean yourself up a bit to be accepted even by the tradesman's entrance, but we can work with those variables. I can give you a kona for each piece, provided you return with a signed paper from each house that verifies they received the figures. Should you try to abscond with my works, young sir," Ghenn's benign smile gained a diamond-hard edge, "rest assured that I _will_ find you. If you make it back by sunset, however, you are welcome to join us for evening meal."

Wary interest sparked in Mal's eyes. "I'll think about it. You give me the stuff and I'll get you your papers."

"Agreed. Come inside and wash your face while I prepare the pieces for transportation. Girls," Ghenn acknowledged, then ushered the surprised boy into the house.

By the time Mal finally emerged with a travel bag slung over one shoulder, a pair of potential customers had Tarai and Kayamé busy. He trotted down the steps and ducked around the side of the stall, head down to avoid being noticed by the higher-class pedestrians. When they had finally gone (_without _buying anything, to the girls' disappointment), Kayamé turned a questioning look to Tarai.

"How _would_ Ghenn expect to find that boy if he decided to disappear with the glassworks?"

Tarai shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe he knows people who could track him down?"

"I know Ghenn helps any Streets kid that turns up needing something, but I still think he could be trouble. What did you think of him, Ta?" Kayamé added thoughtfully.

Countless tiny cues from people that Kayamé couldn't see and Tarai couldn't articulate coalesced within Tarai's subconscious, and expressed themselves as an odd empathic sense. Kayamé judged by a combination of keen observation and guesswork; Tarai simply looked at people and more often than not felt an echo of the hidden intentions they didn't realize she could perceive.

"He felt split," Tarai pronounced, confusion creeping into her voice. "Like he's trying to do two things at the same time, and one is fine but the other could be bad." Tarai shivered. "I don't know if letting him back into the house is a good idea."

Kayamé nodded. "I don't know if it will change Ghenn's mind, especially since he already offered evenmeal, but I'll tell him when we're done out here."

"Mm'kay."

The rest of the morning passed quickly, and soon the girls returned to the house for midday and learning. Kayamé voiced their concerns to Ghenn, but while he seemed to take them seriously, he refused to go back upon his word of a promised evenmeal should the boy choose to accept the offer.

To the girls' dismay, though not to their surprise, Mal showed up punctually at sundown. Kayamé would have been more surprised had Mal turned down the opportunity of a free meal. Any Streets kid that survived soon learned that you treated any chance of a meal like it was your last.

During evenmeal Mal's behavior presented a mass of contradictions — his speech remained rough, but as he focused more on the food and less on his company, his table manners became unexpectedly polite. While he ate quickly, trying to satisfy his stomach, he refrained from tearing into his food like a miniature barbarian, and waited to be offered more food before filling his plate again.

Ghenn and Emmaline kept conversation directed away from Mal during dinner, accurately reading body language that promised stolid silence in response to any personal questions. He silently observed their usual dinner exchange, Kayamé and Tarai telling Ghenn what they had learned and done that day. One of the only moments of dialogue to include him came when Ghenn offered him the same job to do in three weeks time. Mal, did, however, manage to leave the girls feeling more than a little disturbed from some of his comments — nothing good could be expected from a boy who asks: "If you have such popular glassworks, how do you protect them?"

After Mal vanished into the deepening twilight, the house was put in order, and their regular nighttime ritual of reading aloud together — currently an anthology of master poets — was completed, the four settled down to sleep. Ghenn soothed the girls' unease with a promise of more than adequate protective precautions, but Kayamé drifted off with one ear cocked to wake up at any unfamiliar sounds.

Almost to her disappointment, nothing happened that night, or during the entire week. Routine continued as normal, with perhaps the most exciting event being the fact that Tarai and Kayamé learned a new way to cook fish, and had a long argument over what the old poet Rumi meant in his poem _The Waterwheel_. (They got into lots of arguments over the poets, finally adjusted to having topics of conversation they could afford to disagree about. Rumi held no bearing over whether or not they were fed. It was strangely liberating, the license to engage in friendly disputes.)

Not until two weeks later, long after midnight, did Kayamé's eyes fly open at the sound of a faint scraping. Disentangling from the knot of blankets and Tarai's limbs, she tiptoed out of the bedroom towards the back of the house, pausing in the entry room just before the kitchen area.

There was too much light spilling into the entryway from the large main room. Curtains heavy enough to obstruct the city's nighttime brightness covered all the windows around the dining table, clearing of play space, and Ghenn's indoor work area. The entryway should have been brighter than the kitchen, but now it was the other way around. Cautiously, Kayamé crept towards the pale glow, determined to discover the source of the inappropriate light.

So intent was she on moving soundlessly, Kayamé didn't notice the person behind her until a firm grip clamped over her nose and mouth, preventing all sound from escaping.

TBC…

– – – – –

AN: I know. I'm evil. I'm also struggling under massive amounts of school, and had to fight my muse for every single sentence in this chapter. It is, almost sadly, twice the length beyond my original stopping point, which means you got more story in exchange for the cliffie. :hides anyway:

But, I'm not dead yet! Next chapter should bring quite a few things to light in Moire. Nor do I own Rumi or _The Waterwheel_, but it's currently a favorite poem of mine, so I thought I'd share it. :smiles:

Last chapters cameos: Tieg, Fiche, Haku – the Amazon Trio; Mau – Luna; Fleur – Fiore.

A good way to translate the current time of year is to look up the birthdays, of which those Naoko assigned have been transliterated directly from canon into this universe's calendar (13 months of 28 days, the first day of the year being the Winter Solstice). Nephrite's translates to Feb. 19; Jadeite's, April 5; Zoisite's, May 22; and Kunzite's, October 16.

'Til next time…

Ocianne

– – – – –


	16. Better to Light a Candle…

– – – – –

Chapter 16: Better to Light a Candle…

– – – – –

Kayamé struggled and squirmed against her unexpected captor for a moment, until a soft, familiar voice breathed next to her ear.

"Shh…"

Realizing with relief that she had been caught by Ghenn and not by an intruder, Kayamé immediately relaxed into his arms. She listened. The main part of the house had become a vacuum of silence at the faint noises she and Ghenn had made during their brief exchange. If Kayamé could articulate her instincts better, she would have said that it held an artificial stillness, like those made by people standing too still and obstructing the natural flow of air. As it was, she strained to hear anything within the suspicious noiselessness.

After what seemed like an age, the texture of the air changed. Miniscule sounds reached her ears as whatever was in the next room resumed activity.

Ghenn motioned for her to stay put and ghosted past the kitchen/entryway divider. Kayamé waited for a few seconds, then crept forward and poked her head into the kitchen area. The large room beyond was several degrees brighter due to a suspicious, rectangular hole in the wall. A faint glow of city lights and the approaching daybreak filtered inside the house, obscured by the taller buildings around the small backyard but just bright enough to reveal a handful of silhouettes frozen by the entrance. Somehow the heavy multi-bolted door that lead to Ghenn's outdoor glass-forge in the small rear yard had been taken completely off its hinges.

Whoever they were, these people were_ good_. No one would have been likely to detect such an efficient, near-soundless operation, save for the clinically paranoid.

Which, Kayamé realized with a start, begged the question — how had Ghenn known they were there? She had been listening in her sleep lately, but he had been confident that his works would be perfectly safe. Why?

Her train of thought abruptly ended when the oil lamps built into the walls all flared to life at once, searing her night-vision adjusted eyes. She bit back a curse learned years ago and covered her eyes. Judging by the muted cries of pain and cursing from across the room, the intruders had fared no better. She blinked back the spots darting merrily across her vision, trying to focus on what was happening.

Ghenn stood between his indoor workbooth and the dining area, drawn up to his full height and arms crossed. Since he was only 5'3", Kayamé would have expected him to look slightly ridiculous, but instead he held a dangerous air. By the doorway a group of boys who were unmistakably part of a Street Clan crouched and cringed, shielding their eyes from the too-bright room. Ghenn spoke, and the words seemed to burn with carefully checked fury.

"Begone! There is nothing here for you."

His only response was louder curses, including a few that Kayamé had never heard before. She filed them away for future reference.

"I will not tell you again. Leave this place and do not return."

One of the boys' hands flashed to his belt. Too late, Kayamé realized his intent. Her cry of warning came simultaneous to the knife spiraling far too quickly towards Ghenn. Ghenn dodged instinctively, which resulted in the knife glancing off his arm and falling to the ground instead of embedding in his chest. What Kayamé didn't understand was why, when it sliced his skin, the oil lamps flared again — and the boy's shirt combusted into flames.

With a yell of terror, pain, and anger, the boy ripped off his shirt and ran out the door, followed by his fellows. Kayamé darted forward, beating out the shirt's smoldering remains before the wood floor could catch fire. Once satisfied that only ashen tatters remained, she turned to look at Ghenn.

Emmaline and Tarai had woken at some point during the altercation, and Emmaline already held a cloth against Ghenn's arm. Tarai watched wide-eyed from near the entryway.

"Kayamé, are you all right?" Emmaline inquired worriedly.

"I think so…" Kamaé looked at her hands. The lamps were burning much lower now, nearly out of oil, and it was hard to make out their color. They look darker than normal, probably reddened from the heat of the flames, but didn't feel burned. "Tarai?"

"I'm okay. What about you, Ghenn?" Her voice held a slightly odd note at the question, but Kayamé let it go. Their guardians didn't seem to notice it either, as Emmaline retrieved another rag and bound Ghenn's wound, eliciting a grunt.

"I'll soon be fine, Tarai. We'll have to do something about the door, though." He chuckled. "I'll bring a carpenter around in the morning."

At this point Kayamé yawned, adrenaline quickly draining now that the danger had passed. Ghenn picked up the knife from the floor, wiping it on the mostly blood-stained rag and placing it on the table.

"Emmaline, why don't you and the girls go back to bed. There's still time to sleep a while longer. I'll take care of this and join you in a few minutes."

Emmaline nodded, taking Tarai's hand. "Let's go, darlings. I'm sure you're still as tired as I am, and dawn isn't too far off."

"Wait." Kayamé crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. "Things are wrong. Why did the lamps all burn at once, and his shirt catch fire? How do you plan on keeping them from coming back now that the door is gone? How did you even know they were _here?_"

Unexpectedly, Tarai nodded in determined agreement. "Too much doesn't make sense. I saw your arm, before the bleeding stopped. I don't think I would have noticed if the lamps weren't so burned down, but…" she swallowed. "I know what blood looks like. It shouldn't glow a little just as it comes through the skin."

Kayamé stared at Tarai, then at Ghenn. He smiled faintly.

"It seems the old saying 'blood will out' may be a bit more literal than some people think."

"But what does it all mean?" Tarai insisted.

"I suppose some explanations have long been due," Emmaline admitted softly. "The time has simply never seemed right."

"Well, the time is apparently now. Would you ladies prefer to hold this conversation here and now, or postpone it until morning?"

Kayamé and Tarai exchanged glances.

"Now," Kayamé answered for the both of them. "It's close enough to morning dawn already that it's almost not worth going back to sleep, and I'd rather know what's happening."

"Ever the truth seekers." Ghenn made shooing motions with his hands. "Go get situated in the bedroom for a talk, while I take care of this out here. I'll be but a moment. Emmaline, why don't you rebuild the fire? The fall air will be getting in now, and this early in the morning is always coldest."

Emmaline nodded. The girls trailed behind her to the bedroom. By the time Ghenn returned the fireplace was crackling merrily, casting patterns of shadow and light in a flickering dance about the room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, Emmaline perching beside him and draping a coverlet over their legs.

"I hope you'll forgive me if I don't know where to begin."

Ensconced beside Kayamé in their bed, Tarai had pulled a blanket over her head like a cowl, and peered out from the shadows. "Start with why your blood has sparks running through it when exposed to air?"

"Ah. Of course."

Ghenn paused for a long moment, marshalling his thoughts, then began to speak.

"I am not a native of Moire. In the old language of my people I am known as a Hirei, but you would know my kind better from the old faerie stories I've been telling you, where we are called the Katien tribe – that is, the fire-clan of the Fae race."

Kayamé inhaled sharply. "You're really one of the Fae? It's true, then? The Fae didn't die out or travel to another world, but are hiding far away from human civilization?"

"Yes. Not as far away as you might think, though. Sometimes Fae enter the human world, like I did. Many even marry or have children, which means that some humans are partially of Fae blood as well. It will lay dormant unless triggered by strong emotion, such as anger or desperation. But I digress," he added. "My blood holds those strange sparks, Tarai, because a Fae's power literally runs through our blood."

"Do you have magic, then, like in the stories?" Tarai asked breathlessly.

"I have some talents. The quality of my work is in part because I can precisely control my fires to melt and reshape glass according to my wishes. I caused the lamps to flare, Kayamé, and lit the boy's shirt on fire accidentally when my control slipped from the shock of the knife wound. I guard that door with a warding that alerts me whenever someone attempts to enter. Usually the bolts are enough to bar their entry, but those boys were unexpectedly persistent."

"I think Mal belonged to that clan," Kayamé declared. "It's too close to be a coincidence."

"That may be so, but he was not here and I will not begrudge him an honest day's work, should he choose to come again. Perhaps it could be enough to free him from depending on a clan to survive."

Tarai hugged her blanket closer. "Sometimes it's hard to remember we were like him once. Ghenn, did – did you employ us three years ago because we couldn't have survived otherwise? I mean, Mal and the Streets boys can have it bad, but I've never seen other girls running in the clans."

"Yes, little one." Ghenn's eyes had grown suspiciously moist beneath their white brows. "I could not leave you as you were, not when I, and only I, could save you." He took a deep breath, Emmaline laying a hand on his arm. "The Hirei, we… some of us occasionally have images flash in our minds, possible futures or events of the past. When I saw you girls, I also saw what might be. I could not let it come true."

Ever empathic, Tarai shed her blanket and, blinking back tears, climbed up on the bed on Ghenn's other side. Tentatively snuggling under his arm with a shy smile, she chose to express her gratitude with the implicit reestablishment of trust, rather than a 'thank-you' in words.

Kayamé's brow knit, thinking hard. "Then… are the Old Folk really as bad as the dark-legends say? I mean, you're still a good person, even if you're a Fae. The stories you tell us and the stories I hear the street musicians recite don't always make sense together. Are the Fae good, or bad?"

"Well, we are certainly not mischievous little men or spirits lacking in malice but with tendencies to make trouble." Ghenn smiled a tight, slightly bitter smile. "We have our share of good and bad in society, just like humans."

"Why did you come to Moire, then?"

"That is somewhat complicated, and very much political. The simple answer is that a good friend and mentor of mine asked me to come here and determine how humans now perceived us. You see, over a thousand years ago our races had a falling out over a disagreement between the rulers of the time. In the process, many lies were told to the peoples, and without contact to dispel those lies, the alienation between us continues. I came here to monitor human opinion nearly forty years ago, and never bothered to leave."

"Why? Didn't you like where you used to live?"

Ghenn chuckled at Tarai's question. "For all its good points, there have always been problems. And I found something infinitely more valuable here." He and Emmaline exchanged a fond glance, and Emmaline picked up the narrative.

"I come from a family of scholars who specialized in the ancient past, what we could find of it. As such, I knew a great deal of the oldest legends about the Fae. When we became romantically involved soon after Ghenn arrived, I eventually recognized in him the signs of a Fae."

Emmaline laughed at a memory in her mind's eye. "I've never seen him so surprised before or since! But he admitted I was right, and we both decided we didn't care. My family thought I was a fool for marrying so young, but we moved to a different part of the city and never looked back. I think I may have grandnephews and grandnieces by now, but I lost touch with them long ago."

"Wouldn't he have been lots older than you?" Kayamé inquired. "I thought the Old Folk lived a lot longer than humans."

"Only pureblood Fae, descended from a single clan, retain the old life-spans," Ghenn replied. "A handful of Noblefae and higher-class families have managed to keep pure lines; by this time all common folk, including myself, are crossbreeds between several or all of the five clans. We rarely live longer than the upper limit of human lifespans, and many often die even earlier. The Creator has blessed me in that Emmaline and I seem to age at the same rate, for it means we are unlikely to be separated by death for long."

"Why have your lives shortened like that?" Tarai asked curiously. "Is it the way the blood mixes?"

"That's right. When opposite elements meet in the blood, body fights against itself. This doesn't kill a Fae right away and so it went ignored for a long time, but we've since discovered that mixed blood Fae have far less endurance for magical tasks. We are already a frailer race than humans, and the conflicted body eventually loses strength to do anything, even to live. Crossbreed Fae die peacefully, but we die quite young relative to the pure bloodlines."

"Can't anything be done to fix it?" Tarai bit her lip. Kayamé looked on, worry showing in her face as well. "I want you to live a long time!"

Ghenn smiled at them both. "I've lived what feels like a long time already, Tarai. There are things that I wish I could see in my own lifetime, but nothing seems to have been found to help us yet. Some intriguing theories exist about how to help my people, but nothing concrete has been determined."

"We'll find out a way, then. Some way to help both of you live for a long time to come. Even if we have to travel 'round the world to find out what it is."

"Around the world," Tarai echoed. "When we're old enough we'll go searching, even if it's all the way to wherever the Fae hid themselves ages ago, to find a way to help people like you live longer."

Ghenn's eyes twinkled. "I believe you both will, someday. Perhaps you could even show my people that humans aren't so bad, after all."

"If that's what it takes, we definitely will." Kayamé nodded decisively. "We'll do whatever we have to."

"Well, that's settled, then." Ghenn paused. "Would you like us to begin teaching you more about the wide world you plan to eventually travel? I can even pass on to you some of the old Fae lores, and the true history as I learned it from my mentor."

"Oh, yes!" Tarai was beaming.

Kayamé looked thoughtful. "I'd like to know the stories, but if we're going to travel someday, I want to be able to do more than throw words. Here in the city we've always managed to bluff and run away from the clans, but that might not always work with them or anyone else. A little knowledge of street brawling won't do much good."

"It has been a long time since I learned to fight, but I may be able to help you in that regard. Does anything come to mind?"

Tarai shrugged helplessly. She had never much liked violence or confrontations, preferring to leave that to Kayamé.

"I remember, months ago, you crafted a boy drawing back a bow. Could I learn how to do that too?"

Ghenn nodded. "If I were to teach you anything, I would prefer to begin with basic ways to defend yourself even without a weapon, but I believe that yes, Kayamé, I may be able to teach you archery."

"But that will have to wait for a little while," Emmaline went on. The sun has risen, and it's time to begin a new day. We'll have to determine properly how to fit such things into our days later."

"Emmaline? When Kayamé learns to fight, could I learn the old tongue? It sounds like it would be beautiful."

Emmaline laughed again. "While learning basic self-defense would be a good idea, yes, Tarai, when Kayamé and Ghenn practice archery we'll see about having lessons of our own. Now, off you go to get dressed and I'll see about breakfast. Ghenn, the carpenter? See about improving the locks while you're about replacing the door, won't you?"

Under Emmaline's direction they scattered for another day, a little closer to each other and filled with new purpose and ambition.

Maybe their resolve would last, and maybe it wouldn't, Ghenn reflected. But perhaps, if it did continue through the next several years, then he could hold a bit more hope for the coming of that brighter future Aire had described to him so vividly, almost forty years ago.

– – – – –

AN: This is an expository chapter. I make no apologies, because these things have to be said _sometime_. Our characters are still separated in space, but their links are pulling closer…

Not much else to say, except that because it's midterm season, the plunnies came out to play. And bit. And don't like to let go.

'Til next time,

Ocianne

10/06

– – – – –


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